The Robin Chronicles
by MsWikit
Summary: AU story. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are the children of world-famous billionaire Bruce Wayne. Radically different in personality, they begin the journey from childhood to adulthood together. But the boys are leading dangerous double lives...
1. Dick's Origins

__This is my new 'big' project. My friend and I have been doing an AU roleplay where Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian have been growing up as brothers. We talked about turning it into a fic and...here it is. I'll still be updating Wishes and On With the Show, but this story will be my main priority as of now. The story will shift between their different points of view as things progress. But first we have to get their origin stories out of the way, since we will be tweaking things here and there. All chapters will be posted on my deviantArt account first (MsWikit), so if you want to see them a bit sooner you can follow that account. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated!

Also, I apologize for the length of Dick's chapter. He's a storyteller and never shuts the hell up. Jason, Tim, and Damian's stories will be much shorter.

* * *

_-Dick-_

I arrived in Gotham under the impression that I would only be staying for two weeks. In those days I was still traveling with Haly's Circus. My parents had been with the circus since before I was born, and when I turned four they simply integrated me into the act. But I was never allowed to participate in the finale, which was always done without a safety net. Not that I ever fell during a show or anything. I barely fell in practice. But my parents didn't want to take the risk.

We got off the train around noon. The sky was dark with clouds. A light misty rain was falling. It made the entire train yard – and the entire city for that matter – look gray. Familiar voices began to shout familiar orders as we began to unload our train's cargo: excess luggage, props, animals, set pieces. Most of which had to be transported to the fairgrounds so we could set up our big top. Usually I liked to help with the set-up. It was hard work but you got to have fun with the other members of the circus. But I was noticeably worn out from the long trip. My dad handed off our lighter luggage to my mom.

"You go check into the hotel, alright? I'm going to help get everything set up at the fairgrounds." Dad told her. "I'll meet you two in the hotel restaurant for dinner."

My mom shouldered one of the bags. "What time?"

"Around six, maybe seven. If I'm late just go ahead and eat. And…stay at the hotel. Don't go out on to the streets." Dad kissed her cheek, then ruffled my hair.

My mom and I caught a cab and stored our luggage in the trunk. The driver said nothing as we told him the hotel name. He looked us both over silently, appraising us through his rear view mirror. Once he was satisfied he started the car and began driving to the hotel. I leaned against my mother's shoulder. There was a gun resting on the dashboard in plain sight. Suddenly I remembered what my dad said about staying off the streets. He'd never said that before. Usually I was encouraged to go explore. For the first time I began to realize that Gotham was different than other cities we'd been to before. It was dangerous.

We reached the hotel on the northern side of Gotham, which was the wealthier and safer part of the city. My mom and I checked in and went up to our suite. (Mr. Haly always got good rooms for his performers, but as his star act we got a bit of special treatment.)

Mom went to work on unpacking. I crawled on to one of the soft beds and went right to sleep. I could never sleep on the train and sometimes I would end up passing out as soon as we got to our hotel. When I awoke a couple of hours later, I heard my parents speaking softly. They were trying to talk about something without me hearing. That almost never happened. We were a close family. So we never kept secrets from each other. I feigned sleep to hear what it was that they didn't want me to know.

"…he demanded Mr. Haly pay him." Dad was saying.

"Pay him? For what?" Mom asked.

"'Protection.'"

That confused me. Why would we need protection? I thought of the gun on the dashboard. Again I got the feeling that Gotham was a dangerous place.

"Can you believe it, Mary? Right after we get off the damn train, some mobster is already breathing down our neck."

I almost gasped. My dad wasn't a very serious man. He preferred to joke and laugh about everything. He only swore when he was very angry, and he never swore in front of me. Whether I was asleep or not.

"What did Mr. Haly do about it?" Mom asked.

"He told him to get out. The guy said he would get in touch two more times. And after that there may be an 'accident' that he couldn't prevent. We tried contacting the police but they refused to do anything." My dad sighed. I could hear the frustration in his voice. "This place has gone to hell, Mary. I thought it was bad when I was growing up…can you imagine what it would be like if we'd tried to raise Dick here?"

"We'll be gone in two weeks, John. Just try not to worry too much."

I sat up then and looked at my parents. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, baby." Mom said gently. "Let's go get some food, ok?"

xxxx

The circus received its next warning on opening night. I never saw the man who delivered the message, but I heard people mumbling about it when they thought I wasn't in earshot. But I quickly forgot about it. Gotham was our last stop on our American tour. Next was the international tour, which would be a first for me. As it was our last performance in the states until the next year, everything had to be perfect. All of my time was spent training with my parents. Adding tricks, correcting mistakes. We didn't get back to the hotel until after dark on most nights. And my dad had strictly forbid me from venturing off. So my time before bed was spent watching cartoons and staring out the window at the Batsignal burning in the sky. I hated being confined to a hotel room. What was out there that they didn't want me to see?

I could tell our final show was going to be a big one. At the fairgrounds I could feel that low hum in the air. That hum was always a good sign. It meant that the audience was giving off a lot of energy. Performers can practically feed off of that stuff. It's part of one big cycle: the more energy the audience puts out, the more energy the performer puts out. And it just keeps going and going until the finale.

That hum was growing when I snuck to Mr. Haly's makeshift office. On the night of my first ever performance, Mr. Haly wished me luck and gave me a peppermint. It had become our tradition. Every night before a show I would go to his office. He would tell me to break a leg and then give me a peppermint. I was sneaking since people were arriving in full-force and I wasn't supposed to be seen in my costume. Even when I got close to the door I stayed in the shadows. It took everything I had not to jump out and run into the office. The hum was getting louder, feeding into me like a drug. But as I moved closer I heard Mr. Haly talking to someone. That was weird. Everyone knew better than to bother Mr. Haly before a show. But I didn't recognize the voice talking to him.

"…Haly, this is your last chance." The strange voice said. "I would love to guarantee the protection of your performers. But I'm afraid if I don't get some money soon, my powers will be severely limited."

"I will not be bullied by the likes of you." Mr. Haly replied. "And if you ever threaten any of my performers again, so help me I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what?" The other voice challenged.

"Get out of my office. OUT!"

The door opened. I pressed further back into the shadows, suddenly frightened. A man in a gray suit stepped out. He straightened his collar and stood in the light flooding out from the open door. In my mind it's like a spotlight. I memorized everything I could about him. The salt and pepper colored hair. The thin nose, the sharp beady eyes. He started walking off. I waited until he was gone before slipping into the office. Mr. Haly was standing at his desk, his back to the door.

"Mr. Haly?" I said hesitantly.

"What is it?" he asked sharply. When he realized it was just me, he turned and sighed. "I'm sorry Dick. I'm just…stressed." Mr. Haly reached into his drawer and handed me a peppermint. "Break a leg, kid."

I popped the peppermint into my mouth and started to slink out of the office. Mr. Haly called me back.

"And Dick?"

I looked over my shoulder at him. "Yes, sir?"

"Be careful."

He'd never told me that before. I nodded and ran out.

xxxx

As predicted, the show was a huge success. My family's act was up last. And with each act that went on, the energy in the atmosphere doubled. They were practically screaming at every little trick performed. My parents and I stood by, waiting for our turn.

My mom knelt in front of me and straightened my costume. "Ready to go, Richie the Robin?"

I blushed. "_Moooom_! You promised you wouldn't call me that anymore!"

Ever since I turned four, my mother had started coming up with embarrassing nicknames. Most of them had 'Robin' somewhere in them. I didn't mind it so much, but most of them also had 'Richie' somewhere in them. And God damn it, I hate being called Richie.

Mom giggled. "Sorry, sorry."

Dad smirked some and picked me up. "Embarrassing nicknames aside: are you ready to go flying, kid?"

"I'm ready!" I grinned.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm ready!"

"Lift-off!" My dad threw me into the air like I weighed nothing at all. I screamed happily and hugged his neck when he caught me.

"Shhh!" Mom said with a smile. "You two will get us in trouble!"

Finally the Acabari Twins finished their fire breathing act. The lights dimmed dramatically. Our cue to go on. We started climbing to our positions. Once we were up, Mr. Haly went to center ring. A lone spotlight turned on him. As he talked the safety net was slowly hoisted into place.

"Ladies and gentleman, I'm sure you would all agree it's been a wonderful evening. Sadly, our time together is drawing to a close." Mr. Haly took off his top hat and held it over his heart dramatically. After a moment of disappointed sighing, Mr. Haly looked back up with a small smile. "But we still have one, final act left for your viewing pleasure. We have here tonight an extraordinary, death-defying family of acrobats! I present to you: THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

Three spotlights turned on us. One on Mom, one on Dad, one on me. The crowd roared with approval. We waved and smiled. I could feel the energy growing into a crescendo. This was going to be the best show yet. Gotham was a hungry city. It loved a good show. It _needed_ a good show.

"Allow me to introduce to you: John Grayson!"

Dad jumped out, did two flips, and caught one of the bars. Without losing any momentum he swung on to the next one. The audience roared with approval.

"Mary Grasyon!"

Mom jumped out next. She twirled in the air, her blonde hair whipping around her like gold. My father caught her wrists and swung her on to the next bar. More cheering.

I got ready to go.

"And their son: Dick Grayson!"

I jumped.

To be honest, the whole show was a blur to me. I remember jumping, swinging, spinning, rolling. The crowd was cheering somewhere in the distance. But I don't remember anything specific. Not until the safety net was lowered and I swung over to my perch. Sweat was rolling down my face. But I was happy. The crowd was happy. And the finale was coming up.

I didn't pay much attention to what my parents were doing. I'd seen their finale a million times before. But I snapped to attention when I heard the noise.

To be honest, I can't really describe what it sounded like. The appropriate term would be 'metal wires giving out.' But it didn't sound like that. I just remember it being a weird sound. Then I saw my parent's faces and knew something was wrong. I got on my stomach and reached out. They were swinging towards me. My mom with her arms outstretched, my dad holding on to her ankles.

My fingertips brushed my mom's. Our eyes locked. It felt like the moment lasted forever, but I know it was more like two seconds.

And then they started to fall.

I tried to close my hands around hers. But she was already gone, slipping away like water. I couldn't look away. At first the audience screamed in delight. And then when they realized it wasn't part of the show, that there was real danger here. Their screams turned into cries of fear when they hit.

The only way I can describe the activity afterwards is what happens after you step on an anthill. At first there's nothing. Then the next thing you know the ants are swarming all over the place without really knowing what the hell they're doing or what's going on. That was what it was like. First there was just a stunned silence. I kept my eyes on my parents, watching for any sign of life. But there was nothing.

The ant hill came to life. Mr. Haly and the other performers swarmed the rings. People started yelling in the stands, calling for someone to call an ambulance. I couldn't hear any of them. Somehow I ended up on the ground. I tried to run to my parents, but the Acabari Twins cut me off. They tried to block me from seeing them. I was crying and trying to dart past them. The twins were both wide and muscular. But I was small and too quick for them. I managed to dart underneath their legs and ran forward. There was a small ring of people crowded around my mom and dad. I shoved past them and stumbled forwards.

My parents looked like a couple of broken dolls. They didn't even look human anymore. Someone tried to pull me back. I whirled and smacked them away, but was too scared to get close to my parents. So I just stood there and cried. Well, sobbed. And screamed. Bruce told me later he could hear me screaming over everyone else. I don't remember being that loud but I wouldn't doubt that I was. Mr. Haly picked me up and handed me off to another performer. They carried me out of the tent as the paramedics were arriving. One of the paramedics came over and I was handed to them.

"The performers that fell were his parents." I heard her tell the paramedic quietly.

The paramedic nodded. He carried me over to the ambulance and set me down. He tried to calm me down, but in the end they had to give me a mild sedative. Someone draped a bright orange shock blanket over my shoulders. After what felt like hours, I saw two stretchers with white sheets draped over them being loaded into another ambulance. Watching it made me feel cold. I looked away and saw Mr. Haly talking with some police men. Finally a man with gray hair and a thick coat came over and knelt down in front of me. I didn't know it then, but I would get to know this man very well in the future.

"You're Dick, aren't you?" he asked. I nodded. The man held out a hand. "I'm Commissioner Gordon. I'm in charge of the police force."

I shook his hand, still feeling cold and numb all over. "Hi."

"How are you feeling?" Gordon asked me. I immediately began to like him. There was genuine sympathy in his voice. Almost fatherly.

I shrugged. I didn't really know what I felt. I just knew I didn't like it.

"I know things are tough right now, kid. But I have to ask you some questions." Gordon said. "Mr. Haly said you might have seen someone suspicious leaving his office. Did you?"

Suddenly it all came back to me. The man in the gray suit, standing in the spotlight. Every detail was burned into my memory. From the color of the buttons on his cuffs to the words he said to Mr. Haly. "I did."

"What did he look like?" Gordon asked. "Did you hear what he said?"

I told him everything. Gordon seemed surprised at how vividly I remembered everything. Almost suspicious, actually. But he wrote down what I told him on to a small pad, then tucked it into his coat. "You're going to have to come with us, son."

Automatically I resented being called 'son' by anyone other than my dad. But I already liked Gordon and let it pass. "Why? What did I do?"

"Nothing. It's just that…your parents are gone." Gordon looked me in the eye. The words were honest, but not harsh. "We need to find out if there's any family we can turn you over to. If not…"

"Can't I stay with the circus?" I asked, suddenly feeling even worse. The world felt like it was falling down on my head. My parents and my home all in one night? I didn't even know if I had any other family. We'd never visited any other relatives.

Gordon shook his head. "Afraid not. If there's no family that can take you…we'll find a nice foster home for you. Or send you down to Honorhall." I could tell Gordon was trying to keep his tone light, as if these options weren't so bad. But his eyes gave him away. Foster homes were bad. Honorhall, whatever that was, was even worse.

I was driven to the GCPD building in Gordon's car. I spent the rest of the night answering the same questions over again. No, my parents never mentioned any aunts or uncles. No, I don't know if I have cousins. No, I don't know who my grandparents are. By the next morning they'd gotten their hands on our family records. All four of my grandparents died years ago. Both my mom and dad were only children. They could find no relatives they could pass me along to. So early the next morning, arrangements began for me to be put into foster care.

The night had left me exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. I was lying on a wooden bench in the back of the GCPD building. They'd given me a pillow and I was using my orange shock blanket to keep warm. Now that I was calm, I started to actually think. What would happen to me? What had happened during the performance? How was the man in the gray suit connected to it? Everything felt scary and horrible. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry again. Part of me wanted to sleep very badly. I was exhausted. But the noise of the office was keeping me awake. Footsteps started towards me and I rolled on to my side so that my back was to everyone else. Someone touched me on my shoulder.

It was Gordon and a man in a suit. Slowly, I sat up and stared at the man. He was taller than Gordon with jet black hair and blue eyes. His face was handsome and vaguely familiar. Like I'd seen it somewhere before. The man offered a small, kind smile.

"Dick, this is Bruce Wayne." Gordon looked unhappy. The name registered in my mind. Bruce Wayne was a famous man. Sometimes he popped up in the gossip magazines my mom read. That was why I recognized him. "He's just adopted you."

xxxx

As chance would have it, Bruce Wayne had been at the show last night with his latest girlfriend. Before the police took me away, he asked one of the officers to call him and tell him if/when they managed to contact any living family. The same officer called him shortly after they verified that I had no blood relatives left alive. And through the magic of money, Bruce Wayne went through the long, arduous adoption process in a matter of two hours. Before seven o'clock I was legally declared his son.

It was like something out of a storybook. A billionaire adopts a helpless orphan with nowhere to go. Just like in _Annie._ Any kid would be thrilled.

Well, I wasn't.

I stood there as Bruce Wayne spoke a bit with the police. They informed him that they might have to call me in for additional questioning, but otherwise I was free to go home. (Home being Wayne Manor.) I watched them from a distance and frowned. I heard Gordon grumble to another officer, "Should be illegal, using a kid as a charity case like that. Just trying to up his popularity and make a stir."

That was all I was? A way for him to end up in magazines? He was taking me in before my parents were cold in the ground so he could get attention? I hated him at once.

His butler, Alfred, was waiting outside with a limo. Usually this would have dazzled me. My family had been famous, but never limo famous. But since I'd already decided I hated him, I resented it. The butler held open the door for me and I got in without a word. Bruce got in beside me. We still hadn't spoken, even though he was legally my new father.

"It is nice to meet you, Master Richard." Alfred said as he started the limo. He began to drive away from the police building.

I cringed. No one ever called me Richard unless I was in trouble. "Everyone calls me Dick."

"I prefer full names, sir." Alfred replied. "Keeps things proper."

A silence fell in the limo. Finally Bruce looked at me and said, "I'm sorry about your parents."

I didn't respond.

When we arrived at Wayne Manor, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. But still I refused to say anything. I slammed the limo door after I got out. For the first time I began to wonder about all of my stuff. All of my clothes, my souvenirs that I'd collected over the years, the family photos…where was it? Would the circus just throw it out? I allowed myself to be led up the stairs by Alfred. Bruce followed us for a bit, then proceeded down the hall and disappeared into his office.

Alfred opened one of the doors. "This will be your room, Master Richard."

All of my stuff had been moved in. My Flying Graysons post was tacked on to the wall above my bed. There was a shelf mounted on the opposite wall that held all of my souvenirs. The open closet door showed that all of my clothes (including costumes) were arranged neatly inside. Pictures of me and my parents were sitting in nice, new little frames and were sitting on a desk. It didn't feel like home, but it felt close.

"Oh…thank you…" I said, glancing at Alfred.

"It wasn't my doing." Alfred replied as he surveyed the room with a critical eye. "Master Bruce retrieved your belongings and arranged them in your new living quarters himself."

That surprised me. Maybe Bruce wasn't so bad after all.

"He also retrieved your parent's belongings. They're currently in storage." Alfred added.

The thought of Bruce touching my parents' things got me angry at him all over again. I resumed my silence. Alfred nodded respectfully and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him. I sat on the bed and stared around at my new room. Everything felt unreal. Yesterday morning, I'd been eating breakfast on a train while my mom teased my dad for putting too much sugar in his coffee. The next day I was an orphan living with a billionaire and a weird old guy that insisted on calling me 'Master Richard.' It was like a nightmare come to life. I collapsed on to the bed and buried my face in the pillow. I started sobbing into it, wondering how things could change so fast.

xxxx

I wish I could say that things improved between Bruce and I when some time passed. Some of the tabloids painted us as the perfect pair: the gentle paternal billionaire and the sweet orphaned acrobat. Other tabloids said that Bruce's life of partying would lead him to be a terrible father and I would end up ODing on coke at sixteen. At the time, I thought the latter was a more accurate idea.

Truth be told, I barely saw Bruce. He was never at dinner. I always ate alone. When Alfred saw that I was barely eating he would stand in the room with me. And when it finally got to the point where I refused to eat, he got Bruce's approval to send me to a child psychologist.

The therapy wasn't actually that bad. I actually kind of liked my therapist until she said I had to try to bond with Bruce. Then I hated her too. But she got results and soon my survivor's guilt/PTSD/mild depression began to ebb. Bruce, on my therapists' orders, began trying to act more fatherly. He ate breakfast and dinner with me, but usually left halfway through dinner. Once he tried taking me to a baseball game. We almost caught a foul ball, but instead I got hit in the face and we went home before the fourth inning. Every time we tried to bridge the gap between us, something got in the way. Whether it was him or me or the cosmos. Nothing was right. It wasn't until I accidentally discovered the Batcave did things begin to thaw between us.

I still don't remember what I was doing with the grandfather clock. Maybe I was trying to piss Bruce off and break it. Well, whatever I was doing, I ended up discovering a panel hidden behind it. I pushed the panel aside, revealing a pair of metal doors.

At first I didn't know what to think. I reached towards the doors. The motion sensor caught the movement and the doors flew open. Behind them was a brightly lit express elevator. I slowly stepped inside, not really sure what was going on. The doors closed and the elevator began to move. When it finally stopped, I was let out into a giant cave.

Your first look at the cave is one you always remember. I felt very small when I looked around. The cave looked enormous to me. There were metal platforms and walkways that led to different parts of the cave. Training areas, a workbench, computers…the Batmobile was at the center, parked and waiting to be used. Bruce was sitting in front of the master computer. He was so absorbed in his research that he didn't notice me. I slowly walked towards him, realizing that Bruce Wayne wasn't all that said he was. But my attention was quickly caught by the picture on the screen. It was of the man I'd seen coming out of Mr. Haly's office. I recognized him almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. Why was Bruce researching this strange man?

Bruce turned suddenly and stared at me. "Dick! How did you-"

"That's the man that threatened Mr. Haly." I said with a frown.

"You need to leave." Bruce stood up. "I don't know how you got down here-"

It finally hit me then. Bruce was Batman. Why else would he be down here with all of this equipment? Why else would the Batman's car be sitting in here? "Is this what you're doing all the time? Being Batman?"

He sighed. "Yes. We'll talk about this later, alright? Go upstairs."

"No." My defiance wasn't unusual at this point, but Bruce still didn't like hearing the word. "I want to know what you're doing."

We locked eyes. Neither of us was going to back down. Bruce glared at me. For whatever reason that scared the crap out of me, and I looked away. But my feet stayed planted on the ground. Finally, we both broke.

Bruce said, "I'll tell you if you promise to go upstairs after I do."

"Ok." I agreed eagerly.

Slowly, Bruce sat back down in his chair. "The man is named Tony Zucco. He's a prominent mob boss and the prime subject in the investigation on the murders of your parents. They think he sabotaged the wires somehow so that they would break during the finale. But there's no evidence to support it, aside from the threats. He's untouchable."

The weight of his words began to sink in. This was the man that murdered my parents. He was the reason I was stuck with Bruce, rather than on my way to Europe for the international tour. He was the reason my parents were dead. Suddenly I hated him more than I'd ever hated anyone before. I wanted to see him suffer. I wanted to see him die. "So you're trying to find evidence against him?"

"And get a confession, if it all possible." Bruce confirmed.

"Why?" I looked at him. "Why do you care about him?"

"I don't." Bruce frowned as he examined the information on the screen. "I've been shutting down the mob one cell at a time, and Zucco has never been 'one of boys.' But now that the field is open he feels a bit more apt to play. He isn't a priority."

"So why are you doing it?" I somehow sensed we were on the threshold of something. The walls we'd thrown up between us were slowly beginning to come down. Or, as my therapist would have said, we were 'on the verge of a breakthrough.'

Bruce didn't look at me. "For your sake. I don't want your childhood to be consumed with revenge, like mine was."

I'd never thought about Bruce as a child before. I always figured he just popped into existence, full grown and wearing a business suit. "What do you mean?"

"My parents were shot in front of me when I was around your age. It's the reason I started all of…this. The reason I took you in." Bruce seemed to think he said too much. He frowned at me. "Now go upstairs."

I left without a fight, which surprised him. I went straight to my room and sat down on my bed to think. But my room suddenly felt small and cramped. Fresh air was what I needed. I opened my window and climbed on to the roof. For whatever reason, the manner of my parent's death didn't make me afraid of heights. (The therapist seemed to think it would.) I still liked being up high. I sat down and let the breeze go through my hair. From my perch I could see the Gotham skyline and the setting sun. Soon the Batsignal would turn on and Batman – _Bruce_ – would begin working.

So, Bruce was an orphan too. And his parents were murdered just like mine. He was even trying to get my parent's killer brought to justice. Suddenly everything made sense. How distant he was, how disinterested in me he was. Hell; if I was Batman I wouldn't have paid attention to some bratty orphan either. Yet he was working on this case for my sake.

It got dark, but I stayed on the roof. Bruce eventually came up and sat beside me.

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked, hugging my knees to my chest. "With the case?"

"Not for another hour." Bruce replied. "Why are you up here? It's dangerous. You could fall."

I shrugged. "I'm not scared. Plus I think better when I'm up higher." I looked at him. "I decided that I want to help."

Bruce stared at me. "With what?"

"With the case. He killed my parents and I want to help catch him." I said, frowning slightly.

"Absolutely not." Bruce frowned right back. "It's too dangerous. You're just a kid. All you'll do is get in the way and get yourself in trouble."

"Not if you train me!" I protested.

"Train you? Dick, I can't even take care of you. What makes you think I can train you?" Bruce raised his voice slightly, but I didn't back down.

I glared at him. "You're a bad dad but you're a good Batman! Didn't you want to do the same thing? Catch the guy that shot your mom and dad?"

Those words made Bruce go silent. Neither of us spoke for at least ten minutes. Then Bruce stood up and looked down at me. "I'll _consider_ it."

To me, he might as well have said yes.

xxxx

Training began after a month of consideration. At first, Bruce tried to scare me off. He laid on the toughest, most physically challenging exercises he could think of. By the end of each session I was black and blue. But I didn't back down. When he saw that I was intent, he eased the lessons slightly. The goal went from scaring me to actually teaching me. I learned pretty early on that my acrobatic skills were my biggest asset. I incorporated them into my fighting style so that I could even throw Bruce for a loop. I have a photographic memory, and that worked to my advantage in the lessons on detective work. Stealth training was probably the hardest. But over the months, I began to learn how to walk without being heard and how to stay to the shadows. I was never allowed to go into the field. Bruce would always bring information back and we'd work on the case together in the cave.

It wasn't until February did Bruce decide I was ready. Incidentally, we had all the evidence we needed by that point. All that was left was the confession. That had to be gained through interrogation.

Bruce had me dress in all black. I didn't have a mask or a utility belt, and I was expected to keep to the shadows as much as possible.

"You don't do anything without orders to." Bruce told me as he pulled on his cowl. "Understand?"

"Understood." I replied.

Zucco was going to be at a bar. When left to find his car, Batman would move in and the interrogation would begin. I was told to wait on a specific rooftop and not move from my spot. I didn't. And two hours after I arrived at my perch, Batman arrived with Zucco.

To my surprise, he shoved Zucco forward and said, "Get it out of your system." I didn't need to be told twice. I ran forward and punched him in the stomach. I poured all of my anger and hate into every punch and kick. By the time Batman pulled me away, Zucco had three broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken nose.

"That's enough." Batman said calmly. He glanced at Zucco. "Do you want to confess now? Or should I let him continue?"

"Just keep that little demon away from me!" Zucco cried. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

It was over just like that. The whole thing suddenly felt…small. My life for the past few months had been leading up to that moment. Yet it was over in half an hour. Batman turned Zucco over to the police, as well as all the evidence. Zucco confessed to sabotaging my parent's act. I went home feeling strangely hollow. The feeling persisted until the next day.

"How do you feel?" Bruce asked.

"Unsatisfied." I replied with a frown.

"I thought so." Bruce looked at me. "Do you know why?"

"It was just so…fast. The past few months have been leading up to that. Now it's over. Now what do I have?" I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. "No purpose, no nothing."

"You have school." Bruce replied. (I'd begun school at Gotham Academy at that point. Other than my new best friend Barbara Gordon, I hated it. I missed the days when my parents homeschooled me.) "That's something."

"School stinks." I grumbled. "I wish you would just let Alfred homeschool me."

There was a silence. I glanced at Bruce. He was obviously thinking about something. By that point I knew him so well I could practically see him mentally weighing the pros and cons. After a few minutes of deliberation he said, "What if this became a…permanent arrangement? The crime-fighting?"

The words came as a shock. I stared at him. "I…you…_for real_?"

Bruce nodded once. "You would still have to follow my orders exactly as I give them…you'll also have to undergo more extensive training. And you'll need an alternate identity…"

Suddenly the world seemed to open up before me. And I realized that I _wanted_ to do more. I wanted to prevent some other kid from losing their parents to a money-hungry nut job. I wanted to protect Gotham. I loved and hated the city all at once, and I wanted to defend it. I accepted Bruce's offer without hesitation.

"You'll need a name." Bruce reminded me.

"I've got one. Robin." Funny how I used to hate being called by that. And then I became famous by that name. Batman and Robin suddenly became synonymous with one another. They started calling us the 'Dynamic Duo.' Bruce and I even began to get along better. The gap between us was slowly being bridged. Now that we finally had something to bond over, we stopped fighting. We became a bit more like a father and a son.

But I didn't stay an only child for long.


	2. Jason's Origins

__Told you it would be shorter! Next up is Tim.

* * *

_-Jason-_

My luck was shit from the start.

My dad ran out before I was born. When I was three, my mom committed suicide. I lived on the streets from then on. I learned to keep myself fed by rummaging through garbage and stealing things to sell. I slept in an alley on a cardboard box. Sometimes this one old guy would let me sleep in his bar after he locked up. And these two gangsters would check on me every now and then and made sure no one was molesting me or some shit. But everything still sucked. I had to grow up real fast or get killed. Life was pretty much one long string of shit until this one night when the Batmobile parked near my alley. I had been on my own for a few years by then and I knew how to steal the rims off of cars and sell them. And these were like the ultimate rims. They were from the Batmobile, for God's sake!

I got my shit from the alley and went to work. I'd gotten the first one off when someone tapped my shoulder. I frowned. "Bug off! This is my find!"

"Uh, it's _our_ ride."

I turned around. I was face-to-face with Robin. I don't remember exactly what went through my mind but it was something along the lines of: _Shit damn fuck I'm screwed._

Batman morphed out of the shadows behind him. I got my first dose of the Batglare. I wish I could say I didn't care. But I almost shit my pants. I pressed my back to the Batmobile and stared up at him.

"Why are you messing up our car?" Robin asked. He was two years older than me. But he wasn't anywhere near as intimidating as Batman.

My eyes stayed on the freaky man dressed like a bat, for obvious reasons. "I…I was gonna sell them. For money. For food."

"Don't your parents feed you?" Robin asked. He grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me to my feet. He wasn't rough about it, but I jerked away once I was on my feet and glared at him.

I frowned. "My parents are dead."

That kind of surprised him. He looked at Batman, then back at me. "Where do you live?"

"Uh…there?" I pointed to the alley.

Robin looked back at Batman. He looked back. I had a feeling they had some weird father-son telepathy shit going on. (Everyone figured Batman and Robin were father and son. I mean, who doesn't notice their kid sneaking out to fight crime every fucking night?) I felt left out and frowned. "What? Got a problem with it?"

"No." Batman said. But he wasn't talking to me. He was still looking at Robin.

"Yes." Robin crossed his arms over his chest. It didn't seem like an argument. In fact, Robin seemed like he was playing. It was as if he knew he was going to get his way and Batman was just defying the inevitable. What the fuck?

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"_Yes_."

"No!"

"No!"

"Nice try." Batman almost smiled. But it twisted into this weird scowl. "We can't. He's not a puppy, Robin."

"No, he's a homeless kid. A homeless _orphan_." Robin jumped on to the Batmobile's roof and sat there. "We can't just leave him. You know we can't."

I suddenly realized they were talking about taking me…back to wherever the hell they went when the sun came up. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Terrified but also weirdly excited. After a moment, Batman sighed. He hit a button on his belt. The roof of the Batmobile opened up underneath Robin. He fell inside and yelled, "JERK!"

Batman almost smiled again. Then he looked at me. "Erm…get in."

Well, who was I to disobey the God damn Batman? I climbed in. Robin was settling himself in the passenger seat, so I climbed in back and sat beside the window. The roof slid shut and Batman gunned it. I slammed back against the seat and gripped the side to steady myself. He made a sharp turn and I decided that it would be a good idea to put on my fucking seatbelt.

Robin seemed totally used to the guy's homicidal driving. He turned around in his seat and grinned at me. "So what's your name?"

"Jason. Jason Todd." I replied, crossing my arms. Why was this kid so fucking cheerful?

"I'm D-" Robin began to say his actual name. Batman cleared his throat. I couldn't see Robin's eyes behind his mask, but I'm pretty sure he rolled them at Batman. "Just call me Robin. So…uh…what happened to your parents? If you don't mind me asking."

"Don't know where my dad is, but I think he's dead. He bailed before I was born. And my mom hung herself. Hanged? Hung? Screw it." I crossed my arms over my chest.

There was another sharp turn. Robin seemed to anticipate it seconds ahead of time and gripped the seat to keep himself steady. "I'm sorry. My parents are gone too."

That surprised me. If this kid was an orphan too, who the hell was Batman? An uncle? A really really older brother? "How'd they die?"

Robin hesitated. It seemed like he was trying to figure out how much he could tell me. "They fell. From high up."

"Did they jump?" I asked, weirdly intrigued. Somehow the idea of me and Robin having something in common (Even if it was suicidal parents.) appealed to me just a little bit. It meant that I wouldn't be alone. I would have something in common with Gotham's youngest hero.

He shook his head.

"Were they pushed?"

"No but…it's complicated. They were set up." Robin shrugged a bit. I could tell he didn't like talking about it. I never really had an issue talking about my parents. To be honest, I was more angry at them than sad. How could someone just leave their kid to die on the streets?

I didn't even notice we were out of the city until everything went dark. We were passing through a tunnel. I frowned. "Where are we going?"

"The cave!" Robin replied.

"Is that code for like…your house or…?"

"It's an actual cave." Batman said.

The light returned, but it was dim. A giant cave stretched out above us. The car was driving on a metal walkway and stopped on a platform. Batman hit a button and the roof retracted back again. Robin jumped out, did a flip, and landed on his feet. Batman got out after him and looked at me. Slowly, I climbed out.

Robin was heading up one of the walkways towards an older man in a suit. I didn't know who the hell he was supposed to be, but I followed Robin anyway.

"You really should radio ahead when we are going to have guests here." The older man spoke and looked towards Batman. He turned his attention towards Robin. "Any injuries tonight?"

"No." Robin said.

"He got bitten by a dog." Batman replied gruffly.

Robin shot him a look that said, 'Shut the fuck up' but the damage was done. The older man cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Robin. The kid sighed and pulled off his dark red tunic and his cape. He showed the man his side. There was a dog bite on his side that was still bleeding. I guess I didn't see the blood on his tunic because it was the same color as his shirt.

"Were you bitten by a dog or a small tiger?" The man asked as he looked over his side.

"It was a Rottweiler." Robin grumbled. He climbed up on to a small table and let the older man clean the bite and then stitch it up. I stood by the table and stared around. Batman walked over and looked down at me.

"So…do you sleep here?" I asked, still looking around. I didn't see any beds.

Batman shook his head. "No. We sleep upstairs." He paused. "I guess you will too."

"He can sleep in – _ouch_, Alfred! – in my room." Robin cringed as the man worked, then smiled at me.

"We have plenty of rooms for him to choose from." Batman replied curtly. With that he pulled off his cowl. I was in awe. How many kids got to see Batman unmasked? He changed out of his suit, put it in a case, and then left the cave. I kind of wanted to follow him, but chose to stick with Robin.

The old guy, Alfred, finished stitching him up. "Now change and go to sleep. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume your homework is done."

Robin changed out his costume completely and gave the tunic to Alfred to wash. I stared at him once he took his mask off. He looked like a regular kid. His hair was a shade darker than mine and his eyes were a brighter blue. If you saw him on the street, you would never guess that he was the Boy Wonder.

He held out his hand. "I'm Richard. But everyone calls me Dick."

I laughed at that, but he didn't seem to care what his name meant. He led me over to an express elevator and we went upstairs. The elevator opened behind a grandfather clock. Dick slipped past it and led me into a giant, fancy as hell living room. My jaw dropped.

"Is this where you live?" I stared at him.

Dick nodded and grinned. "Yup. Come on. The bedrooms are upstairs."

I followed him up a staircase and to the next floor. He pointed towards a close door at the end of the hall. "That's Bruce's – Batman's – office. Don't go in there."

"Why not?" I took it as a challenge.

"Sometimes he takes his…uh…'lady friends' in there and you do_ not_ want to see that. Plus he doesn't like to be interrupted when he works." Dick shrugged some. I decided that the room sounded too boring to be interesting, so I put it in the back of my mind. "The room next to that one is his bedroom. Usually that's safe but…knock first. Again, lady friends. The room across from that one is Alfred's. Annnd all the others are empty. Well, except for mine." He opened one of the doors and swung it open. His room was a good size and messy. I walked in to inspect it. It was bigger than any room I'd ever been in before. Dick leaned against the doorframe and watched me carefully.

I slipped on something and fell on the floor. Dick let out this weird-ass laugh, then came to help me up. I swatted him away and he picked up what I'd slipped on. It was just a plain metal stick. "What's that for?"

"It's a gadget I'm working on." Dick replied, tossing it in the air and catching it. "Bruce is always making new stuff, and he told me to try my hand at it. I'm not as…techy as he is but I'm getting the hang of it."

I snatched the metal stick away from him. Dick didn't get mad, which kind of irritated me. "What's it do?"

"Nothing, yet. I'm trying to figure out how to make it conduct electricity. See, the idea is that you take it- hold on." Dick paused and looked around, moving some clothes on the floor. After a few seconds of looking he picked up an identical stick off the floor. "You take it and hit this button, and it'll become electrified. You can stun people with it, even knock them out with one hit if the voltage is high enough."

The idea got my interest. "Could you kill someone with it?"

Dick squirmed a bit at the question. "Uh, probably. But I'm not going to do that, if I ever get them working." He took the first stick from me and set them both down on his desk. "Come on. Let's pick out where you'll sleep."

In the end I chose the room across the hall from Dick's. I stayed with them for a few weeks. Summer came, and Dick and I started spending more time together. One night he took me up to the roof and told me it was where he went to think. (Which explained why sometimes he just up and disappeared and no one could find him for two damn hours.) He led me up there after he and Bruce returned from the night's patrol, and we sat together and looked at the city.

"It's kind of pretty, isn't it?" Dick said, looking at the city lights. "From a distance."

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"You know, Bruce is thinking about letting you stay here. For good." Dick said suddenly. He looked towards me. "Would you want to?"

To me that sounded like a pretty stupid question. Who wouldn't want to live with a billionaire who was a freaking hero? But I didn't want my enthusiasm to show. So instead I just said, "I guess so."

"Do you like it here? Do you like me and Bruce and Alfred?" Dick asked. He leaned back on his hands, looking out at the city again.

I didn't like it at Wayne Manor; I fucking loved it. I had all the food I wanted. A bed. It was warm. No one tried to mug me. To me, it was like Heaven on Earth. I liked Alfred, even if he was annoyingly old-fashioned and uptight. Dick was alright too. He'd been nothing but friendly ever since they picked me up. Though it times it actually got me suspicious. No one on the streets was that nice unless they were trying to pickpocket you or something. And Bruce…it was weird with Bruce. I liked him, even if he acted like he didn't know what to do with me. He seemed like a nice guy that didn't know how the hell to show it. So he just frowned a lot instead.

Plus…he was the God damn Batman. And that didn't hurt.

"It's ok. You guys are ok, too." I said, pulling my knees to my chest. Suddenly an idea hit me. If I was going to stay, why couldn't I partake in the 'family business' too? "Could I be a Robin?"

Dick's eyes widened slightly and he glanced towards me. "What? I…I don't know." He shrugged again and frowned some. "Bruce wouldn't let me go out until I trained for months and months…and even then it was just supposed to be a one-time thing…"

"_Supposed_ to be. But it wasn't." I pointed out with a frown. "What? Afraid of competition?"

That made Dick laugh. I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned and said, "Ask Bruce. He may train you."

The next night when Bruce got back, I demanded he train me. He, being Bruce, refused. So we launched into a big argument. Dick let us get most of the yelling out of the way while he changed out of his suit. Then he got in between us and dragged Bruce off to the side. He whispered something to him and his face was unusually serious. Bruce listened to him and scowled. They were both silent for a moment. Then Bruce looked at me and said, "Training starts tomorrow." In typical Bruce fashion, he ended the conversation there and stormed upstairs.

"What did you say to him?" I asked, staring at Dick in awe.

"Nothing really." Dick shrugged and grinned mischievously. I never did find out what exactly he said to Bruce. I've tried asking him over the years, but he always pretends like he doesn't remember the argument at all.

xxxx

Training began the next day, just like Bruce said. It was a lot harder on me than it was on Dick. He had been performing and training every day since he was fucking four years old. So he was like a million times more athletic than me starting out. Every night after training I was covered with bruises and sore all over. My training lasted longer than Dick's. Partly because I wasn't nearly as well-trained or disciplined as Dick. And partly because it took a few months for Bruce to realize that all boys and girls are different and you can't train me the same way you would train Dick. Dick was more agile, playful, and clever. I was straight forward and aggressive. Training us the same way didn't work at all. When he finally switched tactics, I made huge progress.

One day months later, Dick kept hinting at a surprise waiting for me when we got home from school. No matter how much I threatened or begged, he wouldn't tell me what it was. When we finally got home he dragged me down to the cave and made me cover my eyes. I tried to peep but Bruce (Who had been waiting for us down there) caught me. They finally told me to look, and Dick was holding up a new Robin costume. Mine was mostly black, except for a dark red hood and cape. I didn't need to be told twice to try it on.

"So, what are you going to call yourself?" Dick asked.

"Red Hood." Lots of criminals had committed crimes under the name of Red Hood. I thought it would be funny to turn it into a 'good' name. Plus it fit. (My hood, after all, was actually red.) Bruce frowned in disapproval, but said nothing.

"Red Hood it is." Dick grinned at me. I grinned back.

The media lumped me in as 'the second Robin' even though I never actually went by the name. But the actual second Robin didn't come along until two years later, when Tim came along.


	3. Tim's Origins

My parents were kind of wealthy. So as a little kid I got to do all sorts of things. One of our favorite things to do was go to the circus. But the most famous one – Haly's Circus – always seemed to avoid Gotham. When it finally scheduled a stop my parents bought tickets for their very first show. I remember everything about that night. I have a really good memory, and I guess that's the reason I can remember that night, even though I was just a little kid. I can always remember the final act really well, I think because it had the circus' only child performer in it.

The final act was a family of acrobats called the Flying Graysons. That was when I first saw Dick. He kept my attention through most of the act. Even though he was a kid, he was really good. One move always stuck out in my mind. He jumped from one of the bars, flipped, and grabbed the next bar with one hand. He landed completely straight, one hand clenching around the bar. The other hand was held straight out to his right and his legs were together and up. He used the bar's momentum to his advantage and then brought his legs over, catching the next bar underneath his knees. I'd never seen anyone – especially a kid – do that before. It made me admire him right away.

About a year later, my parents and I were walking to our car. We'd spent a night at the theatre watching Peter Pan. Something on the rooftop caught my eye. It was a big black shape, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. I looked up and realized it was Batman. Mama pointed him out to me, and we stopped to watch him. His sidekicks were on his heels. Red Hood was sprinting after him, jumping and landing hard on each rooftop. Robin wasn't far behind. They reached a large gap in between rooftops. Batman made the jump easily, and Hood just barely caught the edge of the building. Robin stopped at the edge, looked at the gap, then backed up.

He got a running start and jumped. He flipped in the air and landed with one hand on the very edge of the opposite building. Legs straight up, other arm out. Then he brought his legs over and used his own momentum to keep running.

I'd seen that move before. Then it hit me. I could see the young acrobat in my mind, and compared it to the fresher memory of Robin. The moves were unique and identical.

My mind started to race. The child performer had been named Dick Grayson. I knew that because I remembered seeing it in a program, and he'd made headlines when his parents died during their final show. He was adopted by Bruce Wayne. The ages seemed to match up between Grayson and Robin. Their hair and body type matched up as well. The colors of his costume – red, green, and gold – were the same colors of Dick Grayson's circus costume. (If a bit more subdued.) The costumes weren't exactly alike, but very similar. Someone could have based the Robin outfit on them.

I turned my attention towards Red Hood. He was newer and had only been in action for a few months when I saw him. A few months. That held a connection. I thought back to Dick Grayson, trying to see if I could manage to find any link between him and a kid that was about two years younger than him. I came up with the answer: Jason Todd. He'd been adopted by Bruce Wayne, too. That had been months ago, before Red Hood first appeared. But the connection still existed.

Dick Grayson, Jason Todd. I tried to think about what I knew about their personalities. My parents were in the same social class as Bruce Wayne, and they got invited to parties every now and then. I never went with them, but they told me stories about Bruce's two boys. Dick was playful and clever, and he hated to sit still. Jason kept to himself, was mischievous, and got straight to the point when he talked to you. The personalities fit what little the world had seen of Robin and Red Hood.

But if Dick Grayson and Jason Todd were Robin and Red Hood, that narrowed Batman down to just one person.

I kept the revelation to myself. After the Robins and Batman vanished, we went to our car and drove home.

A couple of years later, my parents were killed.

I don't like talking about it. But we were at a circus (Not Haly's. They refused to come to Gotham after the incident with the Flying Graysons.) And one of the clowns turned out to be the Joker in disguise. I think you can figure out what happened from there.

Batman and his sidekicks got there as fast as they could, but the Joker had already done a lot of damage. Once they subdued him and got him on his way to Arkham, I ran up to Batman and grabbed his cape. He turned and looked at me with a slight frown. The Robins were already walking ahead, not saying anything to each other.

"Please, Mr. Wayne." I said quietly. "Don't let the police take me to Honorhall."

Honorhall was Gotham's notorious orphanage. It had a long-standing reputation of abuse, overcrowding, and molestation. I wouldn't last ten minutes there and I knew it. I stared up at Batman. Tears were running down my face. He looked at me. Then he took my hand and led me out. No one noticed me climb into the Batmobile.

"Um, Batman," Hood said, "who the hell is this?"

I was still crying. I said, "Tim Drake."

"Why is he-" Robin began.

"He knows who I am." Batman replied, frowning. He started the Batmobile and took off. I already had my seatbelt on, but the sudden start took me by surprise and I whimpered. "He called me 'Mr. Wayne.'"

Red Hood frowned. "What? No way. How did he figure you out?"

"Doubtless he has you two figured out as well." Batman turned suddenly, sending the tires skidding across the road.

I rubbed my eyes and nodded slowly. "I figured Robin out first…"

"Way to go, idiot!" Red Hood growled, leaning in between the two front seats to look at Robin.

Robin put his hand on Red Hood's forehead and shoved him back, then turned around in his seat to look at me. He didn't look angry, just really confused. "How did you figure _me_ out?"

I explained how I'd seen Dick Grayson perform in the circus, and how he'd performed a move that I'd never seen before in any other trapeze act. Once I stumbled upon Robin – who was the same age, height, and had the exact same hair color – doing the same move, the rest was easy to figure out. Once I explained, Robin winced and looked at Batman hesitantly.

"Bruce, I'm really really sorry…" Robin cringed and looked at Batman. "I didn't know…"

"It's my fault. We'll have to integrate your old tricks out of your fighting style." Batman replied curtly.

Red Hood laughed and looked out the window. "You might as well tell a fish to stop swimming and a bird to stop flying. Dick will never stop showing off."

No one said anything to me for the rest of the trip. When we drove into the cave, I was kind of scared. The cave was big and kind of dimly lit. There were actual bats roosting up at the top. Batman, Robin, and Red Hood got out. When I was too scared to follow, Robin hopped back up and reached his hand down.

"Come on, don't be scared." Robin smiled at me. I hesitantly took his hand. He pulled me up with surprising strength. Then he helped me down and led me to where an older man was waiting.

"Children seem to follow you like ducklings, sir." The older man remarked as Batman passed him. Batman only grunted in response. The older man turned his attention to Robin and Red Hood. "Any injuries tonight, boys?"

They shook their heads. The man stared at them critically, but seemed satisfied when the boys didn't back down. "Go and change, then. I'm sure you two can find some old pajamas that can fit our friend here."

They changed out of their costumes and led me upstairs. I picked the room next to Dick's to sleep in. Jason tossed me a pair of his old pajamas and stormed out of the room to go to bed. I looked down, wanting to cry again. It was obvious I wasn't wanted. So why should I bother staying? I started to cry again as Dick walked out. But when he heard me he stopped in the doorway and sighed. He turned back around and sat down beside me on the bed.

"It sucks, huh?" Dick put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him and cried into his shirt. "It'll get better, though. I promise."

I shook my head and whimpered. "No it won't. Jason hates me and Mr. Wayne doesn't even look at me…"

Dick surprised me by laughing. I looked up at him. He grinned back. "Jay doesn't hate you. He just isn't sure how to act around you. And Bruce…that's just how Bruce is." Dick wiped away my tears with the back of his hand. "You'll get used to it, I promise."

"You act like he'll let me stay." I sniffled again, thinking about how I'd probably shipped off to Honorhall within the week.

"Oh, he will." Dick smiled at me again. "I'll convince him. You just rest up, ok? You've gone through hell tonight." He set his hand on the top of my head and ruffled my hair. I giggled just a little bit.

Bruce ended up adopting me, saying that I had slipped away from the circus in the chaos and found my way to my parents' old friend. The media had a field day with it. They joked that he was turning into the Angelina Jolie for Gotham's orphans. My training began not long after. Bruce didn't put up much resistance when I asked to help. I guess he'd gotten past that with Jason. I didn't really excel at the physical stuff. I was ok, and with Dick and Jason's help I was able to hold my own in a fight. But I was always more about the technical stuff. Detective work, reasoning, and gadgets were always my forte. There was a debate about what I would call myself, though.

"You can't be Robin too, Tim." Jason said, frowning at me. "Dick is already Robin."

"You're a Robin too." I protested.

"I'm not a Robin. I'm Red Hood!" Jason shot back. "It's different."

Dick set his hand on my head and ruffled my hair. He smiled at me. From the moment I arrived at the manor, we had a bond that neither of us could explain. I guess that's the reason why people always mistook us for actual brothers. Sometimes people made the mistake of thinking that Dick and I were brothers by blood and Bruce had adopted both of us. It didn't help that we kind of looked alike. We were extremely close. I loved Jason too, and even Damian later on. But I never had the bond with them that I had with Dick. We were best friends.

"Tim can be Robin, too." Dick said, looking at Bruce and Jason. "I don't have an issue with it. We just have to think of a way to differentiate between him and me when we're out in the field."

We tossed around ideas for a while on how the tell between Robins. Finally, Dick looked over at the encased suits and grinned. "What about colors? He can be Red Robin or something, I could be Blue Robin."

"Your suit doesn't have blue on it, genius." Jason rolled his eyes slightly.

Dick shrugged. "I'm getting a new suit anyway, since I'm getting too big for my old one. The new one can have blue on it." He looked at me and smiled. "Sound good to you, Timmy?"

I grinned and nodded. So, when Dick had his new suit designed, it was mostly black with a bit of blue. I was given Dick's oldest suit, the very first Robin costume. So Gotham got its third (Or second, if you want to get technical.) Robin. And I got a new family. Bruce warmed up to me eventually. I warmed up to him quickly, and started calling him 'Dad.' (Both Dick and Jason never called him anything but Bruce.) I began introducing Jason and Dick as my big brothers. To me, we were a real family.

We were a broken family, sure. I won't argue that. All of us were orphans with practically no one else to turn to. We could never replace each other's actual family. But we didn't need to. Our family was different from your conventional family. It was something new altogether. I can't even really describe it. We were like puzzle pieces that didn't fit anywhere else. But when you put us together, we fit and made a completely new thing.

I guess you could consider Damian the final piece to our family. But he came three years after I became Robin. We found him on our doorstep on Christmas morning.


	4. Damian's Origins

The last origin story! After this, the story can get into full swing. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_-Damian-_

I was born of Talia Al Ghul, the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul. From infancy I was groomed to take my grandfather's place as the leader of the League of Shadows. This meant rigorous training from the time I could walk. There was no room for weakness. I was held to exceedingly high standards, due to the purity of my birth. My mother had genetically engineered me to be stronger, smarter, faster, and healthier than any other human boy.

Mentally, I was far more advanced than my age would have otherwise allowed. I began to walk and talk much earlier than other, lesser children. Learning to read and write came just as easily and expediently to me. By the time I was four, I had the mindset of a young adult. (Though a very disciplined one.) Mother was pleased with my progress. Grandfather was even happier. He finally had a heir, after having two daughters and a failed son. (I never met my aunt, and my uncle died long before my birth.) But with intelligence comes curiosity, and I became aware of the fact that I had a father. It was only natural that I did. Despite my genetic engineering, not even my mother could discern how to make life without the use of an egg and a sperm. So who was he? Why did no one talk about him?

I questioned my grandfather, but he refused to answer me. He said that my father was a disgrace. A weakling, a coward. This startled me. When I questioned my mother, she told me to pay no attention to my grandfather.

"Your father is not a coward, nor is he weak." Mother told me sternly. "Do not ever speak those words about him again, do you understand me?" When I indicated that I did, she continued. "Your father and your grandfather have…ah…a difference in opinion on many matters. Your grandfather was going to make him his heir, but your father declined the opportunity. It truly is a shame. He is a great warrior." She sighed, genuinely regretful. "If only I had convinced him to stay."

"What was his name?" I asked.

"Bruce Wayne." Mother replied. She refused to say any more on the subject. She warned me that, while my father was a fearsome warrior, he would only poison my mind and divert me from my training. I put it out of my mind. For the most part. Sometimes, when I was allowed to sit and think, a name would cross my mind.

_Damian Wayne._

Somehow, it sounded so much better than Damian Al Ghul.

xxxx

I became more interested in my father's identity as time wore on. I was kept secluded from the outside world. Had I been even minutely aware of pop culture, I would have known that my father was a fairly famous playboy billionaire with three other children. When I began to research my father behind my mother's back, I discovered this and was horrified. Yet I knew there had to be more to this man than everyone else was seeing. My mother would not call him a great warrior if he wasn't one. I found out all I could about Bruce Wayne. The Wayne family was considered old money. Their fortune dated back to Gotham's founding in the mid 1700's. I had no living grandparents on his side. Both of my father's parents were shot and killed long before I was born. He was raised by the family butler. I didn't learn much more than that. Everything else was irrelevant. The media had plenty of information on who he was rumored to be dating. Rumors, rumors, rumors. That was all. There was nothing else solid to be known about him. Funny how a man constantly in the public eye can hide so much from the public.

Then there were his sons. At first, I assumed they were his by blood. It seemed my father had enough harlots trailing him to have twelve kids, much less three. So I was shocked to discover that none of them were actually his. The eldest, Richard Grayson, was an orphaned acrobat. Jason Todd was an urchin taken in from the streets. And the youngest, Timothy Drake, was from an old, wealthy family as well. His parents had been killed during one of the Joke's escapades. All of them lived together in Wayne Manor, located on the edges of Gotham City.

It hit me all at once. Even though I was kept in the dark about the outside world, I knew of the world's heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, and so many others…all of them stayed close to their cities. Only a handful of them had apprentices. But Batman had three.

Gotham City.

Bruce Wayne.

Three sons.

The rest was easy to connect. It all seemed so obvious to me afterwards that I wondered how no one ever noticed it. Now I was able to see what my mother meant. My father was a great warrior indeed. My father was the Batman himself.

Unfortunately, I became sloppy in my undercover research. My other studies began to slide. Mother quickly noted that something was amiss, and set out to find out what the cause was. She discovered me watching footage of the Batman in action. She was furious. After she berated me harshly, she forbade me from ever having anything to do with my father.

"If you so much as pick up a magazine with his picture on it…" Mother growled. "I told you before, Damian. You are Ra's Al Ghul's heir. Your father will only distract you!"

I glared defiantly at her. Most children feared the wrath of their mothers. But I feared no one. Not my mother, not my grandfather. I knew that the worst they could do was kill me. And they would not dare go that far. Not while I was the only heir. I said, "What are you afraid of? Do you really think my mind is so weak that any outside influence can stray me from my destiny?" I looked into her eyes. I could see her steeling herself, as if she was preparing for battle. Arguments between us were nothing short of war.

"Yes. You are still young, Damian. Young and blind." Mother took a step towards me. She shook her head. "You are exceptionally intelligent and strong, with the best training the world has to offer. But you are still a child. Whether or not you admit it, you are a child. You do not know…you do not understand. You must not let anyone or anything deter you from your destiny. You will obey me and forget about your father. Am I understood?"

A thought dawned on me. "He doesn't even know about me, does he?"

"No. And it will stay that way." Mother replied.

"What if I choose to contact him?" I challenged. "He is my father. And there is an entire half of my heritage that I do not know. If he is such a great warrior, there may be something I can learn from him."

Mother struck me across the face. I didn't react, but inside me there was nothing but rage. We glared at each other. Mother said, "There is nothing you can learn from him, Damian Al Ghul. Your place is here. Your destiny is _here_."

"Was that the same thing Grandfather told him before he left? Because it seems my father chose to make his own destiny." I responded, keeping my voice even. Masking emotions was key when it came to Mother. Both of us were trained to analyze our opponent and use their feelings against them. I wasn't about to betray myself in this battle. "Is that what you are afraid of? That I will do the same?"

A tense silence passed between us. Finally, Mother spoke again. "You want to contact your father that badly? Fine. I will arrange it. Now come. You have training to return to."

She did not elaborate on the plans to contact my father. For the next week I waited for her to mention it, but she never brought it up. And then one morning, I awoke in a car.

I was in the backseat, still dressed in my night clothes. Mother was driving. When I looked out the window, I saw a snow-covered city. The streets were mostly empty. All of the shops were closed. Decorative lights were hanging wherever you looked. I did not question her. I knew this must be Gotham, and I knew we must be going to see my father. I wasn't sure how I felt about this, but I wanted to meet him. We began driving up to an ornate mansion that was situated on the top of a hill. Mother stopped in front of it and did not cut off the car.

"Get out." Mother ordered.

As always, I obeyed. I unclipped my seatbelt and got out of the car. I didn't have shoes, and the snow bit into my feet. My mother began to back out.

"Where are you going?" I demanded.

"Home. You wanted to make your own destiny? Then make it." Mother replied harshly. With that, she drove off. I watched the car disappear down the drive. This was her attempt to scare me, I knew. But minutes passed and she did not return. She was gone. Apparently her scare tactic required more than just ten minutes.

Well, at least I would be able to meet my father without her breathing down my neck.

I walked to the door and rang the bell. At first there was no answer. Then a thirteen-year-old boy in pajamas opened the door. The smile on his face slowly faded into idiotic bewilderment. I frowned at him and said, "I suppose you are Richard Grayson."

"Um…yeah. I am. And you are…?" He leaned against the doorframe. I saw two other boys peering out from the next room curiously.

"Damian." I replied. "Damian Al Ghul."

The name slowly registered in his eyes. He straightened himself, readying for a fight. "Al Ghul?"

"Yes. I am Talia Al Ghul's only child. My mother has just left me here." I wondered if his feeble little mind would make the connection. He did, after staring at me blankly for somewhere upwards of two minutes.

"BRUCE!" The boy yelled. "I THINK YOU KNOCKED UP TALIA!"

xxxx

They brought me into the living room and I explained my story to them. They'd been in the midst of their Christmas celebrations when I interrupted them. Wrapping paper littered the floor and they had a fire going in the fireplace. My father and brothers were still in their pajamas, while an older gentleman in the room was already dressed. When I finished my story, no one spoke. Bruce simply sat and stared, concerned and confused as to what to do with me. The elder man sat off to the side and regarded me with polite curiosity. Richard, Jason, and Timothy ogled at me.

"So, your mom just left you here?" Richard asked. When I nodded, he frowned. "That's…really harsh, actually. But I wouldn't put it past Talia."

"You met her?" Timothy looked curiously at Richard.

"A few times, yeah. She didn't like me much." Richard grinned, as if this was some sort of accomplishment.

I frowned at him. "Unsurprising. My mother does not waste her time with the weak."

The insult didn't seem to affect him. But Jason bristled and jumped to his defense. "Is that why she left you on our doorstep?"

Before I could retort, Bruce stepped in. "Boys, please. Go…go pick out what you're going to wear tonight. I need to speak with Damian alone."

The three looked at each other, silently asking whether or not it was worth arguing about. Richard stood up. Timothy scrambled to his feet. So, the youngest followed the oldest wherever he went. I made note of that in case I would ever have to use it against them. Jason frowned at Bruce, who frowned right back. Finally Jason stood and walked out with the other two. The older gentleman followed after them, I suppose to help them pick out clothes.

I was left alone in the living room with my father. Neither of us spoke. The fire crackled. I could hear the other boys yelling to each other from their rooms, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Finally, my father spoke.

"Do you know if your mother will be back for you?" Father asked.

"Most likely." I answered. "The question isn't will she be back. It's _when_. My guess is a month at the most."

Bruce frowned at me. "How old are you?"

"Five."

"You don't act it."

"I'm not trained to act like a child. I'm trained to act like my grandfather's heir."

That sent my father into another contemplative silence. I said nothing. There was more yelling from upstairs, as well as laughter. I found the noise intrusive and annoying. Many minutes later, Father spoke again. He said, "Do you want to stay here?"

I nodded. "I have nowhere else to stay until my mother fetches me."

Father stood. "Come with me, then. I think the room next to Jason's is still empty."

xxxx

That night, my father was hosting a large Christmas party. I was permitted to borrow one of Timothy's old suits so I would be properly dressed. It was fairly obvious that none of the members of the household knew how to act towards me. Jason settled for being hostile whenever the opportunity presented itself. Timothy was frightened of me, but still granted me permission to call him Tim. (Richard made a similar request and asked me to call him Dick.) Throughout the party I was subjected to people crooning over me as if I were a child. Father explained my appearance by saying he'd had a child with a woman in another country, and she'd kept the pregnancy private for obvious reasons. But something had come up and he was forced to take care of me because of it. People tried to suck up to me. Hopeful women tried to find out more about my mother. I turned them away without bothering to entertain them.

The next day, I watched my father training his apprentices for the first time. I followed them down to the Batcave. Jason was opposed at first, but Dick pointed out that I already knew who they were anyways. I was told to sit quietly and watch. I had no problem doing so. It was quite intriguing.

It began with each of the boys sparring with Father one-on-one. The boys always lost, of course, but winning didn't seem to be the goal. While one boy fought, the other two would time how long he lasted against my father. But all three had very different ways of going about things. Dick's fighting style was very distinct. He relied on the use on aerial tricks to avoid Bruce's hits. His flexibility and agility were definitely his greatest skill. But I was surprised to see that he was also strong. A few of his hits managed to stun Father for a moment or two. It was obvious he'd had the most training out of the three, and he lasted longer than his younger counterparts. He went almost ten minutes before Father managed to get him to stay down. Jason's style was more straightforward. There was little defense involved. Just attack, attack, attack. He lasted four minutes less than his older counterpart. From the smug look Dick gave him, I assumed they had a competition going between them. Tim was up next. As the youngest, he lasted the least amount of time. But his style was also different. He relied on his speed and his small stature to evade attacks, meanwhile using his wit in attempts to trick Father. Of course, they all failed. But against a small-minded opponent he would have been successful.

It dawned upon me that I would have no idea how to counteract these different fighting techniques in an actual battle. I'd been fighting hand-to-hand since I could walk, but always against the same basic styles. There was never any variety.

Every night, I observed their training. Each time I thought I had them pinned, one of them would do something that would throw a wrench in my ideas about them. For instance, I thought of Jason as brute strength and nothing more. But one night he demonstrated a moment of brilliance that was usually in Tim's field of expertise. Dick, as well, surprised me. He never seemed to take anything seriously. Because of this he made crucial mistakes. But there were nights when he was so intensely focused he became almost like Father in behavior. Tim, who was usually passive, would have brief moments of aggression when pushed hard enough. I began to respect them as warriors. They were vastly inferior to me due to my genetics, but they were fierce in their own way. But my father was the perfect warrior in my mind.

The confusion didn't end in training. I had never seen a proper family before, or interacted with other children. Their entire lifestyle was alien to me. There was a strong bond between all three of the boys, even though they were not related by blood. Each had their own way of expressing it as well. Dick joked with them and was playful. Jason was insulting and combative, but in an oddly teasing way. Tim was extremely affectionate and stuck to them like glue. They made some efforts to include me into this. I turned away Tim's affectionate approach and refused to allow any of them to touch me. Jason's constant mocking only led to arguments that nearly came to blows. And all of Dick's attempts to connect with me failed miserably. They became frustrated with me, and I in turn became frustrated with them. There were at least two fights daily. I thought them to be petty, vindictive, and ignorant. Yet, at the same time…I felt angry at myself. Why couldn't I achieve basic, positive social interaction? I felt like I was a robot that was learning how to actually feel for the first time. Expressing emotion was (and still is) difficult for me. I'd been trained to hide every emotion – positive or negative – and ignore it. Now that I was in an environment where I was allowed and expected to show emotion, I was unable.

Yet I didn't hate it at Wayne Manor. I felt there was much to be learned. Especially from my father. He was everything I thought my father would be. Serious, calm, talented, brilliant. But there was a softer side to him. I cannot be certain, but I feel that it developed in part due to his older apprentices. They forced him to become a father. And, in turn, he became a bit more gentle and protective. For the first time in my life I had conflicting emotions. About everything. About my father, these three boys who were supposedly my brothers, my mother, the League of Shadows, my grandfather, myself. Everything I'd ever known was changing.

I found my way on to the roof of Wayne Manor one evening. I sat up there in silence for the better part of two hours, trying to work everything out. I didn't even notice when Father came on to the roof and sat beside me.

"It's too cold for you to be out here, Damian." Father said. His tone wasn't as formal anymore. He was slowly getting used to me.

"It's the only place where I can think. Those boys make too much noise." I growled in response. In truth, I was freezing. But I was not about to show weakness in front of my father.

"Those boys are your brothers, you know." Father pointed out.

"They are not your sons. I'm your only son." I protested. I looked at him incredulously, not understand him. My definition of a family was measured strictly by genetics and blood. Love had nothing to do with it.

Father seemed to realize this. He sighed. "Damian, legally, they are my children. I took them in. I'm raising them. They look to me for guidance, for protection. I pay for their education and I do my best to make sure they'll succeed in life." Father did not look at me. His eyes were directed at the city skyline in the distance. "I care about them as if they were my own. That's what matters, Damian. But it doesn't mean you're worth any less."

"I'm worth more than all three of them combined." I turned my face away. "They're just ignorant little street urchins."

"You don't really think that way. That's just what your mother has taught you to say. Am I right?" Father said. I couldn't look him in the eyes and tell them that I did think that way. By blood, I was superior. I had better training. But the three of them had things that I did not have. Creative thinking, a driving purpose, basic morals. They had skills that I could not have hoped to possess. And there was something else. A bond. Happiness. I saw it when they teased Father in a way that I would never speak to Mother. I saw it when they watched movies together or played video games. I saw it when they trained with each other. They _loved_ each other. In part of my mind, that made them better. I felt like a hollow shell in comparison. So I stayed silent, unable to answer my father truthfully.

After a long moment of silent, Father spoke again. "Damian, look at me."

I obeyed.

"I think your mother has trained you well. Too well. You don't know how to be a child. I lost my childhood, and no child of mine is going to have the same happen to them." Father said to me. "If you want to go back with your mother when she comes with you, I will understand. I just want you to know that you have a place here for you if you want it."

My mother came for me a month later. I refused to go with her. She was furious, of course. Her scare tactic had failed her. I gave her my reasons. That I felt Father could teach me more, etc. In part that was true. But I had other motives. I wanted to be close to my father, to really know him. I wanted to know more about the strange three boys that lived with him.

I'll never tell them, but I stayed because I wanted to become a part of their family.


	5. Chapter One

Time to get the first arc rolling!

* * *

_-Dick-_

A year passed. Damian took on the persona Black Robin. We slowly got used to him and we began to work as a well-oiled team. It was just us and Bruce, and we liked it that way. Sure Bruce had tons of 'lady friends.' But only a handful of them actually became serious. And when that happened…well, we dealt with it. No one that we didn't approve of stayed with Bruce for long. Some of the smarter girls figured this out and tried to get on our good side. When that didn't work, they would try to get us out of the way. Anything to get their hands on Bruce and his money. In that entire year we never saw one genuine, sweet girl. But we'd managed to chase away every girl that we didn't like.

And then _she_ came into the picture.

We first saw her at a fundraiser Bruce was throwing for the Gotham police. None of us wanted to go. Bruce's actual parties were fun. But charity events and fundraising galas were the most boring things in existence. We had to get dressed up and miss an entire night of patrols. But I was in luck that night. Since it was a fundraiser for the GCPD, Commissioner Gordon and his family were going to be there. Which meant that I could spend the night talking to Barbara instead of lounging around being bored.

When I saw Barbara that night it finally hit me that we weren't kids anymore. I'd met her when I first started school. She'd been assigned to show me around, and we'd become best friends almost automatically. Before that night she was always just Barbara. But when she walked in I realized just how much we'd both grown. She looked less like a little girl and more like a lady. A very gorgeous lady. I wondered why I hadn't noticed before.

"You look fantastic." I told her as I walked over.

She blushed just a little bit and smiled. "Thanks. You look nice too."

We just kind of stood there and smiled at each other for a minute. Then her father cleared his throat and I remembered where I was. I held out my hand and he shook it. "It's nice to see you again, Commissioner."

"Likewise. It was very nice of your father to throw this little get together for the police department." Commissioner Gordon replied. I squirmed a little. It was always weird hearing people refer to Bruce as my father. He was the closest thing I had to one, but it still felt like some kind of insult to my actual dad.

I talked to him for a few minutes, then slipped away with Barbara. Both of our little brothers were watching us resentfully. James Jr., Barbara's little brother, kept glaring at me from across the room. Jamie liked me well enough back then. But he didn't like having his sister dragged off to spend time with someone else. Damian and Tim were shooting me dirty looks too. Jason didn't seem to care and was lounging around near the refreshments, drinking some punch. Barbara and I just stood by ourselves and talked about whatever. Mostly school. I kept wanting to tell her about one of our missions, but she had no idea who I was. At school I acted like a regular kid. I wasn't allowed to show off what I could do, or else people might get suspicious.

And then she came over.

She was taller than me and wearing a slinky black dress and a diamond necklace. Her dress was cut so that it showed off her boobs, and I had to will myself not to stare when she came over and bent down to talk to me.

"Hey there, little man." She said. "Can you point me to the powder room?"

I kind of forgot how to speak, so I just pointed and tried to keep my eyes locked with hers. They were a really pretty dark green color.

She smiled and patted my head. "You must be Mr. Wayne's oldest boy."

I couldn't remember who Mr. Wayne was, so I just nodded.

The lady giggled. "I thought so." She straightened herself up. "Thanks for the help, little man." With that she walked off, hips swinging.

Barbara punched my shoulder and knocked me back into reality. She glared at me and said, "Quit drooling."

"I wasn't drooling!" I protested. Barbara rolled her eyes and walked away. I hesitated, then wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. Just in case. Then I hurried after her and tried to apologize. (Even though I wasn't actually sure what I'd done.)

The evening went back to normal pretty quickly. Me and Babs kept hanging out together, though I still got the feeling she was peeved at me. Every now and then I'd look around the room to figure out where my brothers and Bruce were. It was mostly an instinct thing. When we're out in the field together, you need to know where everyone is at all times. Or else something can (and usually will) go wrong. Tim and Damian had drifted apart. Tim was talking to some of Bruce's guests and Damian was trying to isolate himself in the corner of the room. Jason was still by the refreshments table, a cup of punch in his hand. Bruce was talking to some lady in a black dress. _Her_.

"Oh God." I groaned. "Bruce Bimbo at twelve o'clock."

Barbara turned around to look. Usually she was very forgiving of Bruce's girlfriends. Whenever something happened she always wrote it off to the four of us being jealous. (Which, admittedly, we were 90% of the time.) But this time she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "So what are you four going to do about her?"

"Not sure." Getting rid of a Bruce Bimbo took skill, coordination, and teamwork. I got Damian and Tim's attention, then waved them over. But Jason was ignoring me. He set his glass of punch down and stumbled over towards Bruce. It didn't look like an act. I would know because Jason can't act for shit. Something was really wrong with him. He reached Bruce and tugged on his sleeve. Bruce tried to shrug him off, but Jason just did it again. When he ignored him for the second time, Jason puked all over Bruce and the hot lady's dress.

Well, at least it was a distraction. But at this point I was more worried about Jason than anything. Me, Tim, and Damian ran over.

"Help him upstairs and get Alfred." Bruce told me. He turned to the hot lady. "I'm so sorry, Selina."

"It's alright. I hate this dress anyway." The lady, Selina, replied with a charming smile. Oh, she was good. "Do you have anywhere I can clean up?"

Bruce nodded and led her upstairs. We followed after them and pulled Jason into the hall bathroom. There was another one downstairs, but Bruce chose to take her to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. They disappeared inside to clean up and I was left to do damage control until Alfred could be pulled away from the kitchen. We got Jay situated over the toilet just in time, because he puked again and groaned.

"Do you think he's sick?" Tim looked up at me worriedly. Damian slipped out to go get Alfred.

"Don't know." I grabbed a wash cloth from under the sink and ran it under the water. I gave it to Jason and he started to wipe off his mouth and the front part of his shirt. "Maybe. There's a stomach virus going around. Babs said Jamie had it last week."

Damian returned with Alfred and we stepped back to let him do his magic. He cleaned up Jason some more since he hadn't done a thorough job earlier. Then he whipped out a thermometer and stuck it in his mouth. Thirty seconds later it beeped. Alfred looked at it. "You don't have a fever, it seems. Perhaps it was something you ate?"

"I only ate the crackers." Jason protested. His speech was slurred and it was hard to understand him.

That set Alfred on alert. "Master Jason, have you been drinking punch?"

"Yeah."

"From which bowl?"

And suddenly everything made sense. Bruce always had two bowls of punch set out. One that was alcoholic, one that wasn't. Usually we could tell the difference even though they looked the same. But I guess the alcoholic punch didn't have a strong smell that night. Jason wasn't sick; he was just drunk. Really, really drunk.

"Oh." Jason took a full minute to realize his mistake. "The bad one."

"Yes, Master Jason, the bad one." Alfred sighed. "You'll be fine in the morning. I'm afraid you'll have a splitting headache, but you'll be fine. Master Richard, can you assist him to bed? I believe Master Jason has had enough excitement for one evening."

I told him that I would. I grabbed the small trashcan out of the bathroom and pulled Jason up to his feet. "Come on, Jaybird, time for bed."

We made our way to his room. I set the trashcan down beside his bed in case he still had to puke. Jason took a while to change out of his suit and into his pajamas, but he managed and flopped into bed. Now that I knew he was going to be ok, I thought the entire thing was kind of funny. I was laughing when I shut his door on my way out. I went back downstairs and told Barbara about what happened. Tim hovered next to me since Damian had been sent to bed.

"You better keep it quiet." Babs warned. "You know how the press are. They'll twist it and say Bruce is letting you four drink!"

I winced because I knew she was right. The press was always trying to demonize Bruce when it came to parenting. And while he's not the best dad in the world, he's not terrible either. When we needed him he was there. (Usually, anyway) It's kind of like a double standard. It's ok for us to badmouth Bruce and complain about him. But if anyone else does it then there will be hell to pay.

Bruce was still busy with the hot lady named Selina, so it was up to us to distract the guests. I pulled Tim over to the piano. The kid was a prodigy, and everyone was eager to suck up to Bruce Wayne's kids and tell them how talented they were. It kept everyone's attention for a while. I saw Selina come back down with her dress cleaned up. Bruce was nowhere in sight. I figured he was checking in on Jason. When he eventually came back down, he had his my-kids-are-being-unreasonable look on his face. I wondered how the hell Bruce and Jason had managed to have a fight given the circumstances. But they found a way, I guess.

The gala ended, and people began to filter out. Barbara had to go home and I dared to kiss her on the cheek. She didn't seem to object to it at least. But her father didn't look pleased, and Bruce looked kind of proud for a second. Then the hot lady got his attention again. They talked for a minute and I watched Barbara go. Alfred ushered me and Tim to bed as she was kissing him goodnight.

"I have a feeling we'll be seeing her again." I said as we headed up the stairs.

xxxx

That next night was my turn for patrol. Jason and I both got solo nights with Bruce. It used to be that all four of us went out with Bruce every night. But he decided that as Jason and I were getting older, we deserved a bit of extra attention. This meant we went on patrol fewer times a week, but we got to work individually with Bruce. So it was worth it.

It was Tim's turn for monitor duty that night, and I ruffled his hair as I walked to the Batmobile. Having the other three around was great. Occasionally we opted to all go instead of splitting it up. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the extra attention. Some nights it was like the 'old days' when it was just Bruce and I. We both climbed into the Batmobile and he gunned it as usual. For the first couple of hours there was the usual small stuff. Then Tim came on over the radio.

"We've got a hostage situation over on Bryke Avenue. Two-Face has about thirty people trapped in the Copper Grill. About six or seven armed thugs are with him. You need to get over there fast." He said.

Copper Grill on Bryke Street. In my mind I plotted out the fastest way to get there from our current position. Bruce had us memorize all of the streets in Gotham for that very reason. He turned sharply and headed towards the northern part of the city. When we pulled up we saw that the press were already clustered out in front of the building and the police had set up a perimeter. Cameras started flashing as we climbed out. Bruce went to go talk to the Commissioner, and I stood by and waited for orders.

A few moments later, Bruce looked over at me and nodded. I ran forward, slipping into the alley next to the building. I grappled on top of it and moved towards the skylight. The Copper Grill was a fancy restaurant in the wealthy part of Gotham, which was probably why that hostage situation got so much attention. I moved to the edge and looked down. Two-Face was at the back of the restaurant. The hostages were all nicely dressed rich people. They'd been herded into the center by six armed men. Two more were guarding the door. Bruce joined me and surveyed the scenario.

"Gordon has orders to move his men in when we do. They can take out the two men guarding the door." Bruce said. "Can you handle three of the gunmen?"

"Can I handle three gunmen? Is the Pope Catholic?" I replied with a smirk.

We got into position. On Bruce's signal, we smashed the glass of the skylight and threw smoke pellets down into the building. I dropped down on to the back of one of the thugs. One well-placed punch knocked him out cold. I flipped and kicked one of the others in the jaw. They tried to fire at me, but I twisted the gun from his hands and sent it skittering across the floor. His buddy managed to get a shot in. The bullet grazed my shoulder. Without missing a beat, I dropped down and kicked his legs out from under him. He dropped the gun and I pounced to knock him out. The other guy came running up from behind. I flipped backwards and landed on his shoulders. I forced him on to the ground and held him there as the smoke cleared.

"I'd stay down if I were y-" I began. A shot rang out and I felt more pain in my shoulder. But I didn't relinquish my grip on the thug. Being Robin meant you got all sorts of injuries. By the time I was fourteen I'd been knifed, shot, burned, poisoned…anything you can think of, really. Pain wasn't an issue for us. I looked back and saw Bruce wrestling a gun away from Two-Face. He slammed him on to the ground, angrier than he had been a few moments before. Hurting one of us always usually did nothing but make Bruce mad. The police were moving in. They'd already taken down the two at the door. Now they hurried to handcuff the other gunmen that we'd taken down. I moved so an officer could hand cuff the thug whose back I was sitting on.

"Are you alright?" Bruce growled when I walked to his side.

"What, this old thing?" I grinned at him. "Can't even feel it."

He was about to say something, but Two-Face spoke as the police dragged him out. He yelled, "Just wait, Bats! One day you and your little Robins will be rotting in the bay! I'll make sure of it!"

We ignored him. Commissioner Gordon walked up as the shaken hostages were escorted out. I slipped past him to go deal with the press. Before I walked out I covered my shoulder with my cape. In general, I hated capes. But they had their uses. When I walked out cameras started flashing and the reporters started yelling to get my attention. I headed into the belly of the beast, letting them circle around me.

"Blue, where are the other Robins tonight?" A reporter asked as they shoved a microphone in my face.

I smirked. "They're back at the nest."

The trick when it came to the press was to tell them completely false information or keep it ambiguous. Or just make a joke. I was the only one that bothered talking to them. Bruce hated them with a passion. Damian felt the same way. Jason usually told them to go to hell and Tim froze up like a deer in the headlights when you shoved a microphone in his face. So I was the only one they bothered talking to.

"The nest? Do you mean your house? Your base of operations?" The reporter asked eagerly.

"No, it's a literal nest. In Gotham City Park. That's where we sleep." I told him. The reporters around me laughed.

"What's your relationship with Batman?" Another asked. "Your father? An uncle? What about the other Robins? Are they your brothers? Cousins?"

That was the question I heard the most. Is Batman your dad? Are the Robins your brothers? It came up so often that I had my answer for it memorized. I said, "We're a team. Whether we're related or not, that's what matters."

The peppered me with more questions. Finally, though, Bruce emerged from the restaurant and waved me over. I ran to him and hopped in the Batmobile. We drove back to the cave in silence. Neither of us needed to talk. It had been a successful mission, and Bruce was pleased. Most people wouldn't be able to tell because he was always scowling. But I'd been with Bruce long enough to know when he was mad and when he wasn't.

We pulled into the cave. I got out slower than usual. My injury was starting to hurt. But Alfred was waiting. I walked over to him and pulled off my cape and tunic so he could get a better look at it. While he cleaned and stitched up the injury, Bruce changed and talked to Tim.

"There was a theft from Gotham Art Museum." Tim was telling him. "You two were busy with Two-Face, though, so I didn't think it was important enough…"

"Hostages take priority over art." Bruce agreed. "But we'll investigate it tomorrow." He began heading upstairs.

"Where are you off to, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he began to stitch up my injury.

Bruce didn't answer, but I knew what was up. If Bruce didn't stay up late watching the monitors it meant that he had a date the next day.

And I had a pretty good idea of who he was going to see.


	6. Chapter Two

_-Jason-_

When I woke up the next morning I had the mother of all hangovers. Alfred got me out of bed and sent me down to breakfast. Dick, Tim, Damian, and Bruce were already at the table. I didn't look at Bruce, because I was still pissed off at him. When I accidentally got drunk off my ass the night before, he accused me of doing it on purpose. To be honest I don't remember the particulars of the argument. I just remembered that Bruce had been acting like an asshole.

I didn't talk much at breakfast and didn't really listen to anyone else. My head was pounding and my throat felt dry. After we ate, Alfred herded us into one of Bruce's many cars and drove us to school. When he dropped us off at Gotham Academy I didn't say anything to anyone. I just stalked off and hoped my head would stop feeling like an elephant fucking curb stomped my entire head. Class wasn't much better. Three of my teachers gave me detention for mouthing off to them, which was kind of a new record. (At least for one day.) After the bell rang I met Dick, Tim, and Damian out in front of the school. We always waited there for Alfred to pick us up. I told them I had detention and stormed off without saying anything else. I wasn't just pissed at Bruce by that point; I was pissed with everyone.

When I got to detention there was only one other kid there. He had spiky red hair and his uniform was messed up. His shirt was untucked, his tie wasn't tied. I sat down next to the window, one row away from him. The teacher at the front desk didn't say anything. He just kept on grading papers.

"What're you in for?" The kid asked suddenly.

I looked over at him. I'd seen him in detention almost every time I was in there. (I got detention almost weekly.) But I'd never talked to him before and I didn't know his name. "Telling a teacher to go fuck themselves. Three different times."

The kid smirked. "Which ones?"

"Crawford, Krinkle, and Hamilton." I replied with a small hint of pride. Teachers, in general, are jackasses. But those three were like the Triforce of Assness. It felt good to tell them off.

He laughed. "Good, they deserve it." He moved over to the desk beside mine and plopped himself down. "I'm Roy. Roy Harper."

"Jason Todd." I replied. It occurred to me that I might actually be on the verge of making a friend. I didn't have any friends. I usually only hung out with Dick, Tim, and Damian. This realization kind of motivated me to keep the conversation going. "Why are you here?"

"Beat someone up in gym class." Roy replied. He looked like he could beat someone up pretty easily. He was a little taller than me with about the same amount of muscle. Something told me Roy was used to fighting. "Hey; isn't Bruce Wayne your dad?"

Suddenly I remembered how irritated I was at Bruce. I grumbled, "He's not my dad." We were always getting crap at school for being Bruce's kids. Everyone knew that only Tim and Damian were smart enough to actually get into Gotham Academy. It was a private school, coincidentally owned by Bruce. Dick and I weren't star students. We were just there because Bruce didn't want to send us to public school. "But yeah. I live with him."

Roy smirked. "Hey; at least you've got a dad. Kind of. I'm a ward of the state."

That got my interest. Meeting other orphans always did. "What happened to your parents? I mean, if you don't mind…"

"Nah, I don't mind. My mom and dad got into a car accident when I was little. I was staying at a friend's house the night it happened." Roy shrugged. I could tell it kind of bothered him but he was trying to play it off.

"So how did you get in here? Are you really smart?" I didn't think Roy was one of the genius kids, mostly because they don't get detention. Even if they do something the teachers let it slide.

Roy shook his head. "No way, man. I'm here on an athletic scholarship. Archery."

I didn't the school had an archery team, but whatever. "Cool. You shoot?"

"Whenever I can. It's the only thing that keeps me sane." Roy replied with a shrug. He propped his feet up on the desk. Once again, I could relate. Being one of Bruce's sidekicks was the only thing that kept me going sometimes. It gave me a purpose. Most kids only had school as their motivation, but I had something more.

We talked some more, and he suggested I try out for the team. Bruce was trying to push us to get more involved in other 'extracurricular' activities. He still wanted us to be normal. I thought being on a sports team might finally get him off my damn back. Before I knew it detention was over. We walked out together, still talking. The two of us walked to the bus stop together and climbed on. Roy got off at Honorhall, Gotham's shithole of an orphanage. I got off at the bus stop that was closest to the manor, then walked the rest of the way.

Bruce wasn't home when I got there. I was glad since it meant I wouldn't have to listen to his bitching about me having detention again. I went straight to my room and stayed there until dinner. Bruce still wasn't back when I came down to eat. Usually work didn't keep him that late.

"Where the hell is Bruce?" I asked.

"Date." Damian replied, frowning. I think the little shit still didn't like the fact that Bruce dated girls that weren't his mom. But considering Talia can be kind of crazy, I don't blame him.

"Oh, God." I frowned. "With who?"

"The hot lady you threw up on last night." Dick answered.

I vaguely remembered throwing up on a woman, but I was too drunk to figure out how hot she was. "Where'd they go?"

"What am I, Bruce's babysitter?" Dick shrugged and finished his dinner unusually fast. I finally noticed that he was dressed nicer than usual. Not formal nice, but casual nice. Which was really fucking weird for him.

"Where are you going?" I glared at him.

"Date." When we all stared at him like he was crazy, he held up his hands like he was surrendering. "What? I'm not on monitors tonight!"

"Did you ask Dad?" Tim looked like Dick had just told us he was going to do some crack and then buy a hooker for the night. I was still kind of in awe that Dick managed to get a girl to go out with him. Since we're brothers (sort of) it kind of blows my mind than anyone on the planet found him attractive. I mean, sure, girls were always talking to him and shit. But I just kind of assumed he was gay or something.

Dick shook his head. "Not like he's here for me to ask. But Alfred approved it, so I can't really get in trouble." He got up from the table.

"But-" Tim tried to protest, but Dick was already walking out of the kitchen. He sighed. "I just don't get why everyone is so crazy about girls."

"No one does, Tim." I finished my dinner and leaned back in my chair. "I guess once you hit fourteen you're just always horny."

Both Tim and Damian stared at me.

"Horny?" Damian repeated, not understanding.

I just rolled my eyes. "Forget it."

xxxx

Bruce got back an hour after dinner. Tim and Damian were already suited up and waiting for him when he came down.

"What took so long?" Damian demanded.

"I lost track of time." Bruce replied. He suited up, and then glanced at me. "I thought Dick was on monitors tonight?"

I still felt irritated at him. He was acting like he didn't even remember. So I turned my back to him and pretended to look at the monitors. "No, it's my turn."

Bruce didn't say anything else to me. He ordered Damian and Tim into the Batmobile. A minute later the engine revved and they drove off. Suddenly I felt really alone. The only one left around was Alfred, and he was upstairs in the manor. I tried to focus on watching the shit on the monitors. Monitor duty, to me, was the most sucky part of being Robin. All you did was stare at a bunch of screens and listen to the police radio. It wasn't so bad when it was a really active night. But that night was really slow. So I was bored out of my fucking mind.

Finally something popped up, and I got on the communications. "Alarm just went off at the Museum of Natural History. Might be the art thief from last night."

They said they would head over there and I tried to figure out a way to entertain myself.

"Boo!"

I spun around in the chair. On instinct, I tried to punch whoever had snuck up behind me. But Dick jumped back and laughed. I glared at him. "Don't sneak up on me like that, jackass!"

"But it's fun." Dick grinned at me. "Anything interesting?"

"The art thief might be hitting the museum now." I grumbled. "Didn't you have a date?"

"Yeah. Her dad wouldn't let her stay out past ten, so I walked her home." Dick replied.

"Who did you go out with anyway?" What girl would be stupid enough to go on a date with Dick?

"Babs."

I just stared at him. "The commissioner's daughter? Have you lost your damn mind?" To me it seemed like flirting with death. If he told Barbara who he was, she was going to tell her old man. And then we didn't know what would happen. "I really don't think he'd approve of his kid dating a freaking _Robin_."

"But he doesn't know I'm a Robin." Dick said, grinning.

"You aren't going to tell her…?" I still have no idea how Dick managed to keep the whole I'm-a-Goddamn-Robin thing a secret. It was the only secret anyone could ever trust him with. I was surprised that he hadn't told Barbara already. They'd been best friends since he was adopted by Bruce. And I was starting to know what it felt like to have to keep a secret from your friend. Roy had asked me to hang out the next night, but that was my turn for the patrol. Usually I didn't give a shit about lying. But lying to my new friend was different than lying to Bruce or Alfred. Mostly because I'd never had a friend to lie to before.

"Hell no." Dick frowned. "Once you know who one Robin is, you know who all of them are. _And_ you know who Batman is. Babs is great but I can't tell her unless all of you trust her completely."

A little while later, the Batmobile pulled back into the cave. Bruce got out looking like he was ready to hit something. Tim and Damian climbed out after him. Damian was holding something in his arm. At first I thought it was a piece of equipment or some shit. But then I looked closer and I realized it was a cat.

Bruce went upstairs without a word. Me and Dick stared at Damian. And the cat.

"…sooo?" Dick asked. We were both still looking at the cat.

"She got away." Tim replied. "The thief. She took off the tracker Damian put on her and put it on that cat."

The cat hissed at us. It was all black with green eyes. In a weird way, it kind of reminded me of Damian. Maybe it was the fact that it looked like it wanted to rip us to shreds.

"Her name is Jade." Damian said, frowning.

Neither of them had any injuries, so Alfred let us all go upstairs together. Tim and Damian filled us in on what happened.

"We got to the museum and there was this lady there." Tim told us. "And she was dressed in all black and had a mask and cat ears on her head."

"I managed to get close enough to put a tracker on her." Damian said. "But she put it on Jade."

"She got past us _and_ three cops. She's smart." Tim finished up.

The media got interested in the second theft. It didn't take long for the news about 'Catwoman' to break. She went quiet after that second theft. For the next few nights, none of us caught a glimpse of her. But we knew the bitch would be back. We kept one eye on the radar for any thefts in the area. Meanwhile we also had to keep one eye on Bruce. Almost every other night he had a date with this Selina Kyle chick. It was starting to get serious. So we had to get serious, too.


	7. Chapter Three

__Finally, a new chapter!

* * *

_-Tim-_

Two weeks later Damian got sick with the chicken pox. We were all really confused because we didn't think Damian was physically _capable_ of getting sick. But I guess everyone has to get the chicken pox. Even people that were genetically engineered to be healthier than your average person. And while it sounds really bad…Damian getting sick was a good thing to me. It distracted Dad from his new girlfriend for a little bit. None of us got sick that often. But when we did, it was sure to get Dad's attention. Damian getting sick also meant I was short a partner when our night for patrol came around. And since Dad didn't think I was ready to go solo with him yet, Dick got to come with us. That was the night when Catwoman showed up again.

"An alarm just went off at O'Hara Jewelers." Jason came on over the communicators. "I'll bet you anything it's her."

Dad agreed and made a sharp turn on to the next street. We weren't far from O'Hara Jewelers, and when we got there Catwoman was still collecting jewelry. She looked up and when we appeared, a smirk on her face. "Well look what the cat dragged in. Come to spoil my fun?"

"And drag you off to prison." Dick added.

Catwoman didn't seem too upset about this. She smiled and leaned on the counter. "Now really, boys. Be reasonable. Am I really such a threat? There are men like the Joker running around in Gotham and your primary target is a little old burglar?" With a chuckle, she pulled a diamond necklace out of one of the cases and inspected it. "I'm just a girl who likes the finer things in life." She dropped the necklace into her bag. "You wouldn't understand. Diamonds are a _girl's_ best friend, after all."

Dick and I were both watching Dad. For me and Damian, the rule was not to make a move unless Dad did first. (Unless we were told otherwise, of course.) Dad nodded his head at Dick and then at me. Dick went to the right, I went to the left. Catwoman grabbed her whip and lashed it at Dick. He jumped to the side to avoid getting hit. She turned on me. I braced myself for a hit. But instead Catwoman lashed the whip around my legs and tugged them out from under me. Dick went at her again, this time with Dad coming from the front at the same time. She unwound the whip from my legs and snapped it in front of Dad's face. It didn't make contact, but he took an instinctive step back. She turned on Dick again and left four bleeding scratches across his chest. The sight of Dick's blood startled me. I stayed on the ground, frozen. Dad just got angry.

He punched her in the stomach. She swiped her claws at his eyes, ripping his cowl just a little. While he was stunned she kicked him and hopped over the counter. Dick and Dad both went after her. I scrambled to my feet and followed.

She climbed up on to the roof and started running from roof to roof. By the time I got up there, Dick and Dad were way ahead of me in the chase. I decided that instead of trying to catch up, I would circle around and try to stop Catwoman in her tracks. I told Dick and Dad my plan over the communicator since they were yards away by that point.

"You have permission." Dad told me. "But be careful."

I started circling around. I made note of what Dad said, but Catwoman didn't seem like the type of criminal that would try to kill us. A lot of the people we fought wouldn't hesitate to kill or maim us. But somehow I got the feeling that Catwoman wasn't willing to go that far. Maybe it was because she was just a thief. Aside from scratching people up a bit, she didn't actually hurt anyone.

I crouched behind a vent on one of the roofs, waiting for her. When I heard the footsteps I pulled my metal rod off of my belt and expanded it. I jumped out and swung it at her, hitting her in the stomach. I raised it again, but then realized it wasn't Catwoman at all.

"Well," Dick said, holding his stomach, "the bad news is that we lost her. The good news is that Red has a swing that could get him to the pros."

"Sorry." I said sheepishly as Dad walked up. I retracted the rod and put it back on my belt. "How did you lose her?"

"No clue. It's like she disappeared." Dick replied. "I guess now we know how the Commissioner feels."

I kind of smiled at that. But Dad wasn't in the mood for jokes. He glared at Dick. "We've been underestimating her. This…Catwoman might be harder to catch than we originally thought."

"Hey, Bats, if you guys are done with Ms. Pussycat, then I suggest getting over to the apartment building on Crowne Avenue. It looks like it could get messy. It's turning into a hostage situation." Jason came on over the communicator. Dad decided that a hostage situation was more important than catching Catwoman, so we headed back to the Batmobile.

The situation on Crowne Avenue was handled pretty easily. Crowne Avenue had been a part of a really nice neighborhood at one point. But it had become just as bad as the rest of Gotham. A mentally disturbed man was holding his daughter and her two friends as hostages. Dad took care of the man while Dick and I got the girls to safety. But all of the girls only thanked Dick. One of them even kissed him on his cheek. I wasn't sure what that was about, but I just assumed it had something to do with being fourteen and horny. (I still didn't know what that meant, though. Every time I asked Jason he told me to figure it out for myself.) Dad talked to the Commissioner for a minute. Then we headed off.

xxxx

The next morning when we were all at the table, Dad said he wanted to talk to us about something important. That got our attention. The last important thing we'd discussed had been the change in how we did patrols. Everyone glanced at each other. This was going to be big.

"All of you know that I've been dating Ms. Kyle for a few weeks now." Dad said. Immediately, everyone went off alert. Jason slumped back in his chair. Dick went back to eating. Damian wouldn't ever show Dad disrespect, but he frowned when Dad said Selina's name. I just kind of squirmed in my seat. Dad glared at us and continued. "Things are getting a bit more serious. I've asked her to come over for dinner tonight and meet you boys."

"Already met her. Does that mean I can go hang with Babs?" Dick asked. His tone was light, but I got the feeling he was being kind of serious.

"I threw up on her. Does that count as meeting her?" Jason grinned and looked at Dick. When they bonded, it was usually over one thing: getting under Dad's skin.

Dad wasn't too amused. He frowned at both of them. "Dick, Jason, this is serious. I want you two to be there and be on your best behavior. Am I understood?"

We all agreed we'd be good. And unless something big happened, no one would be going on patrol. After our discussion it was time to head off to school. Nothing really interesting happened all day, and my mind kept going back to Dad's girlfriend. It had been a long time since he got serious with a girl. Partly because of his role as Batman and partly because of us. A lot of young, attractive women don't want to get saddled with four kids. Especially four like us. Three of us were orphans, and the only one who wasn't had severe mommy issues. Once they got close enough to Dad to know us, they would turn heel and run. Sometimes on their own. Sometimes because we made them. I wanted to be good and make Dad happy. But at the same time I didn't want Dad to keep dating her. His time was split as it was. The only time any of us really saw him was at meals and on patrol. Adding in a girlfriend subtracted more time away from us.

In hindsight we were all being really selfish. But I guess it makes sense. All of us had been left behind already. Dick and I had both been orphaned. Neither of us had any other family to speak of. Jason had been left behind to fend for himself after his mother committed suicide. And Damian had literally been dumped on our doorstep. It made sense for all of us to be afraid of being abandoned by Dad.

But we were in luck. Because that night we began to realize that Selina Kyle wasn't exactly who she said she was.

xxxx

Alfred had picked out our clothes for that night. I put on mine without complaint. They weren't formal clothes, but they were nice enough for a dinner party. When we were all dressed we went downstairs to be approved by Dad. Once he was gone, we looked at each other.

"So what are we going to do about this chick?" Jason asked. He frowned as he looked at the three of us.

"Get rid of her, obviously." Damian answered.

"But how?" Dick wondered. He leaned back against the couch. "How desperate are we? Do we want to go all out or…?"

We considered this. The situation didn't seem dire, but it was urgent. Damian suggested, "We be ourselves."

All four of us exchanged looks. We bridled ourselves whenever Dad's fancy friends were around. When they weren't around to see, we were completely different kids. Perhaps that might be enough to get Ms. Kyle to turn and run. If it wasn't…well, we could figure something out. We always did.

The doorbell rang and Dad answered the door instead of Alfred. He escorted Selina in. I'd only seen her in passing at the gala. But now that I looked, she was very pretty. Her black hair had been curled and brushed out. She had long eyelashes that made her green eyes pop. The dress she was wearing was a nice dark pink color. And there was a diamond necklace around her neck.

My eyes locked on the necklace. I froze. My mind flashed back to the night when Dick had gone on patrol with me. I remembered Catwoman leaning against the counter, inspecting a diamond necklace. A diamond necklace that looked _exactly_ like the one around Selina's neck. I looked at Dick, wondering if he noticed this similarity. He looked back at me. We were thinking the same thing.

"Boys, this is Selina." Dad introduced her. "Selina, these are my boys. That's Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian."

I smiled half-heartedly. I kept looking at the necklace. Was it the same one? Maybe Selina bought it off of her? But that would mean Selina does deals with criminals, which was still bad. Maybe it was just a duplicate. But yet…

"It's nice to meet you." Selina smiled charmingly.

"Dinner will be ready soon. But we're free to sit and talk in here until then." Dad told her. They sat together on the loveseat. Dad put his arm around her. She leaned against him slightly, smiling brightly. They made a pretty couple. And it made me sick to my stomach.

"It's so good to finally meet the four of you." Selina spoke first, starting the conversation. "Bruce told me all about you."

Dick smirked. "Hopefully he didn't tell you _everything_."

We all kind of smiled. Except for Dad. He hated when we dropped hints about who we were, even if no one else got it. Selina smiled and responded, "I doubt he's told me everything. That would make conversation so boring, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah. Though, you know Bruce." Jason cut in. "He's the king of boring. All he does is work, work, work. Once we tried to get him to take us somewhere fun. Like Disney World. Damian here _really_ wants to go to Disney World. But all he does is work."

I could see Damian trying to keep himself from smacking Jason. He'd never wanted to go to Disney World in his life. It was too 'childish' for him. But it was all for the greater purpose of getting rid of Selina, I guess. I added, "Sometimes he has to work on holidays, too. Like one Christmas he had to go in for work." (To be fair, that only happened once. And it was only for two hours.)

We waited to see what kind of impact this would have on Selina. But she laughed. "Bruce can be a stick in the mud, but he's dedicated." Those big green eyes turned to Bruce. "And that's something to admire."

That attempt didn't work. Damian was the first to change tactics. "He does find enough time for women, at least. Models, ballerinas…" And one deadly assassin.

Dad narrowed his eyes at Damian. "It comes with the territory."

"And the territory comes with _a lot_ of women." Dick added.

Dad sighed a little and gave Dick a look that said, '_Et tu, brute?_' I kind of lost my nerve after that. I didn't want to hurt Dad. The conversation continued. Finally my brothers tried to find out more about her. (Presumably to use against her.)

"So are you completely new to Gotham?" Dick asked.

Selina shook her head. The diamonds around her neck sparkled. "No; I was born here, actually. Me and my little sister Maggie grew up in Honorhall Orphanage."

A shiver went down my spine. Honorhall Orphanage. I always get freaked out when I realize how close I came to being sent to that place. I glanced at Dick. He seemed to be feeling the same thing. If it weren't for Bruce, who knows what would have happened to us there? I felt a small inkling of respect for Selina. But when I remembered she was now a suspect in the mystery of Catwoman, it was doused.

"Honorhall?" Jason repeated, skeptical. "What the hell happened to your parents?"

"Jason!" Dad snapped.

Selina smiled, unperturbed. "It's alright, Bruce. Kids are curious." She turned her attention back to Jason. "My dad left shortly after my little sister was born; he got drunk and crashed his car into a semi four months later. My mom died of alcohol poisoning a year later."

"Sounds like your family has a bit of a drinking problem." Damian narrowed his eyes at her.

Dad gave up and sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"My parents, yes. But it seems alcoholism skipped a generation in the Kyle family." Selina spoke with ease. She smirked at us, a devilish twinkle in her eyes. I suddenly realized that she knew exactly what we were trying to do. It finally occurred to us that Selina Kyle was not like Bruce's other girlfriends. They were all pretty enough, but none of them had a brain. This one did. That was what made Selina so dangerous: she was smart. We'd been underestimating her.

"What does your sister do?" Dick asked. "Does she still live in Gotham?"

"No; we both went to Bludhaven after we left the orphanage. Maggie is a nun in one of the convents there." Selina replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "I made my fortune in Bludhaven. And the orphanage is the reason I'm back in Gotham. It was horrible when I was there. It looks like it's only gotten worse. So I aim to help fix it up." Selina explained. I felt my dislike for her slipping again. A lady with a nun for a sister couldn't be all bad. And a lady that helps fix up a horrible orphanage can't be bad at all! Then my eyes drifted back to the necklace.

Part of me kind of hoped I was wrong. I could see the way Bruce looked at her. And I could see the way she looked at him. If Bruce was going to end up with someone, I would want it to be with a nice lady who wasn't after his money, is fixing up an orphanage, and has a sister who is a nun.

Not Catwoman.


End file.
